Many times many ways

Christmas is strange now that I'm an "adult". I still get excited as the day gets closer, although I get more excited now about what I'm giving to other people than what I might get. But the day itself is weird, kind of weighed down with nostalgia. Being at home is that way in general. It's great to be here and to see old friends, but it hurts, too. It hurts to remember how special those people are, and that I only see them once a year. It hurts when I've talked to them for thirty minutes and have to say goodbye again for who knows how long. It hurts that although the faces are the same, I feel different. Knowing I can never be the same as I was, that home can never be what it used to be, is heartbreaking, even though I have no regrets about moving away and starting my own life in New York. It's painful to get a glimpse of something wonderful that will never exist again.