I hate goodbyes. Always have done, always will do. If it was my choice, I’d be sneaking out my window at midnight, without telling anyone I was going – but I’d probably end up with half of Berkshire’s police force out looking for me. They say practice makes perfect, but I’ve never gotten any better at them, regardless of whether it’s people leaving, or horses.
These have been some of the hardest goodbyes I’ve had to do in my life, and while I know it’s not forever and no one’s dying (hopefully), it still sucks. Saying bye to certain people (and certain horses) felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach a fair few times, except with that kind of pain you can dose up on Ibuprofen and it goes away. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so SO excited, and everything will be fine on the plane, but I still wish goodbyes weren’t a part of leaving.
Now I’ll stop whingeing on about nothing, and let Winnie the Pooh be far more articulate on the subject than I could ever be.
But oh well. Ten hours from now (ish) I’ll be in Vancouver, and one step closer to finding a bear and getting a tan, so life really isn’t bad in the slightest. Here goes what will hopefully be the best months yet.