Going back to Lb after weeks/months of being away is the perfect example of grazing a healing scar.
Remember when Bruce Willis found out that he’s dead in Sixth Sense, when everything came flashing back, all those times/days he went on with his life like he was alive when he was actually only a ghost? That’s exactly how it felt on my way home from LB. Visiting LB is torturing my already battered existence, it makes me realize that there is nowhere I’d rather be in this world than in our cozy sofa waiting for life to happen.
I know I sound overemotional. But I seriously feel that all my heartbreaks combined is nothing to the pain and yearning i feel now. LB is my greatest love. All I look forward to is the next time I can visit again, and everytime I go home, I set off into a new level of depression. Which means I have to find a job, soon! I have to move on.
I know I never will. You never move on from something so beautiful like LB. I didn't think I would love a place like this.