-brooding silence-

Really dunno if anyone reads these anymore, but I figure it's still a good outlet. And if you are reading teh bloggage, don't hesitate to comment. Comments make me happy, aye.

...Anyway.

I realized Monday that I am beautifully torn between Moscow and Grangeville. I left Monday morning to go home for Thanksgiving, and as I drove out of town, my chest felt like there was a gaping hole in it--and I nearly started crying. I don't really know why, though. I knew I was going to be back in a few days, but why did it affect me so? And it was the same thing as I left home to return to Moscow earlier today. I really didn't want to go. It's like... Idunno.

I thought about it on the drive up, and came to this conclusion:
>>I didn't want to leave Moscow because in some recessed corner of my mind, I've made this place my home. And in that little recessed corner of my mind, the little-kid part of Katelynn screams, NO I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE!! But I had to leave, because I had to get home. But I was already home. And... blah, this is tangly.

>>Vice Versa, almost. I didn't want to leave HOME because, well, it's my HOME! That, and I really worry about Dad up there by himself. And even though Dad was on his mail route when I left and I had the house to myself, I was freaking out. ((I don't think I've ever cleaned the kitchen that fast. Ever.)) I left before he came home, and I passed him on my way up to the 'Scow. But BLAH, why does this ache plague me in such a manner!?

-lapses back into brooding silence-