I woke up with the feeling of my bones being too heavy for my body, a symptom of a 2am night following the first night of SNF. As I showered, and watched the leaves falling in the sunshine - so beautiful, I could almost hear the first glittering notes of Florence and the Machine's 'Raise it Up' - I had the strangest feeling.
I think I've known that this break would be short - so short that I thought I'd be able to easily slip back into my Cambridge skin (like some sort of lizard) when the time came, no tears, no heartquakes. But as I looked out of that window, I realised that home is home is home and second partings are partings nonetheless. I fell in love with Cambridge fast but then also gradually, and now I am falling in love with home, like falling in love with a friend you've always known and loved and taken for granted and who in a moment of shared jubilation or unexpected comfort becomes a new person yet always loved and longed for.
Part of me wonders if this all sounds so contrite but I don't have the words really.
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