...In which our heroine is going home.

This is going to be my last night in Chicago for quite a while. I'm going home to work, friends, and family--all the familiar places. I should be excited by this fact.

I'm not.

I want to selfishly, childishly, stupidly stay here. I want to be able to curse the cold and look out my window to see the Sears Tower. I want to be able to eat a South Loop Club cheeseburger and go to Belmont. I want to be here.

It is amazing to me how quickly my notion of home has changed from Cincinnati to Chicago. How home now seems like foreign territory, like I'm a guest. When we were at Neil Young the other night (I didn't write about it because the evening was a near total disaster) and mom and I were fighting, my dad of course bestowed the Neil on me--"Once you're gone, you can't come back."

As it was with Thanksgiving, of course I'll be glad to see everyone, and this time I truly will get to see everyone. I feel ungrateful and selfish that I'd rather waste time with Ben than go home to people who really want to see me.

This is a stupid train of logic, and I know it. I have to go home and work to support myself here, but that doesn't make the leaving any easier. Being in a relationship has made me selfish in a way I never understood before, and I'm having a hard time dealing with the thought of prolonged separation from the person whose made me the happiest lately.

This post is precisely why people hate blogs. Just someone whining about their problems that aren't really problems at all and pretending like other people should care. At least I have someone to miss, and someone to come back to.

Anyways, enjoy my favorite Christmas song in the meantime while I pout like a five year old about something I shouldn't be pouting about: