Today I fly back to London. I'm nervous just thinking about it. I hate leaving my beloved... even though I'll be back next Thursday. I love having a bed to myself but I hate sleeping without him. I hate not being able to see him and I hate forgetting little things, like the way he smells, the feel of his lips of mine and the way they taste.
I'm looking forward to being back in my city more than I can express, but this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach is tainting that excitement somewhat. I guess I'm worried that flights will be delayed and I'll have an awful trip again?
In that case, I wish for only one thing, that my trips will be hassle free and on schedule, so I can enjoy my time in London and make it there and back safely.
I'm also looking forward to seing my eldest sister and her family. The eldest two are staying in London until nest weekend and her, her hubby and her youngest are flying back to Ireland tomorrow. Another reason why I hope my flight is on time, if I don't get back until 4am, the time I have with them will be ruined somewhat by my dull eyes and tired body.
I'm planning on going to the cinema, having tourist style fun in town and maybe getting myself hooked up with technology again after my laptop died a couple of months ago.
All in all it should be a good trip. And who knows, maybe by the time I get back, the bf will have found us the perfect flat in Novara so we can move out of the night storage heater we're currently living in. One can only hope!