When I saw the break of day, I wished that I could fly away. Instead of kneeling in the sand, catching teardrops in my hand.

---Nora Jones

The room has cooled just enough to be bearable for now. Taking a break from the good book I can’t help but notice how much the shirt smells like home. Actually it must really smell like Becky, and that Downy fabric softener that she likes so use, but it’s just one of those comforting smells. Hmmm…nice.

The weekend was wonderful. Almost too good to let it go. The last night was marred with high-strung emotions and moments of anger and frustration but it was good nonetheless. For some reason though, whether it was just the PMS getting to me or the long drive ahead, I became teary-eyed. Talking to my mother and hearing her warm, loving voice on the other end of the line was enough to send the tears rolling down my cheeks. I tried to stop it my gritting my teeth and making the sobs silent but soon my face was covered with a salty river and I hung up with a quaver in my voice. Despite my efforts to hide it Liz realized that something wasn’t quite right with me.

“What? Oh…what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

“Awww…” beneath the sobs I managed a, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just started crying for no reason. It’s probably just hormones but I don’t know I was just talking to my mother and I couldn’t stop it.”

She let me sob on for a little while longer but soon I was able to control my breathing and scrunched up face even though the tears still managed to squeeze their way out of my eyes for the next few exits.

It was true too. I wasn’t really sure why I was crying. I figured that it had something to do with just wanting my mother, needing her. I wanted to be there with that warmth all around me, the laughter of my brother, and the taunting back and forth. And that all sort of surprised me because, sadly, that’s not something that I find myself feeling very often actually.