"I hate goodbyes...just go..."

I keep getting this queasy feeling. 

Timing is everything I'm learning. There's a time to leave and a time to stay, a time to sit and a time to move. 

Timing (the knowledge of) is the antithesis of anxiety. I feel that...I feel anxious. 

Yesterday, I guess it was, they (Bethany and Becca) hitched with me down to the train station for my departure from Aigle, Switzerland. Goodbyes were savored by hope, or an understanding that location does not suffocate such complimentary relationships. 

I boarded the train, said goodbye, shortened by a moving door, and they started running as the train began it's departure. They ran the length of the train, full of absurdity and absolute silliness, sprinting alongside the departing vessel. I kept laughing, audibly, and then watched as they both screamed, silently, goodbye, just before the track ended. Sitting down, I pulled out their goofy postcards and the tears created a home in my eyes, watching the mountains of Aigle minimize with the distance. A moment such as this, one of serene sobriety, eradicated the previous joy I had experienced in solo travel. 

I sat in this wave of loneliness that seemed contradictory to my categorical excitement in such independence. I felt like my time of breaking renewal was shortened by the deadline of my departing flight. Some may ask if I will ever go back/return to L'abri. I guess my answer would be one of distant hope...combined with sadness in understanding that the dear people and growing community would be remarkably different, qualifying this experience as uniquely unrepeatable. I learned a lot, not simply through books or scriptural text. I learned a lot, and I presume, by the nature of what has been experienced, that the process will not cease. 

But, I was challenged by the rare combination of background experiences, hurdles of distrust trailed by intimately honest bonds, and the unknown masturbation of struggle met with lightened love. 

None can compare. The rarity could never waiver in light of a new experience. There was an inconceivable beauty in the model of these three weeks. Purely a mark of some kind of sovereignty. 

So, I feel this aching queasiness...as I wait on the drugged American flight to settle in Chicago. 

Timing is everything, and I wish I could retract. 

And Chicago is ugly. 

Americans just try to recreate the architecture of the place they denied in an effort to pursue freedom...Freedom  huh? 

Freedom to copy? 

Ugh.