All my bags are packed I'm ready to go
I'm standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye.
The dawn is breaking it's early morning...
Every place I go I think of you
Every song I sing I sing for you.
Now the time has come to leave you
One more time let me kiss you
Close your eyes, and I'll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
I wont have to leave alone, and I wont have to say:
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you wait for me
Hold me like you never let me go
Oh babe...
I hate to go.
Take care of yourself...Im leaving tonight.
My grandmother hated flying.
She used to squeeze my hand so hard during takeoffs and landings
that she’d cut off my blood circulation.
She’d screw her eyes closed
and whisper this silly prayer someone taught her once.
Something about manifold divine blessings
being unto the plane or the universe or some hippie-dippy thing like that.
And if there was even a teenyweeny bit of turbulence – forget it.
She’d start apologizing to me for every mean thing she’d ever said or done
or even thought about doing.
This morning, with the thought of the plane was lurching down the runway
and not having anyone's hand to hold,
my heart flung itself up into my throat.
And for a minute there, I can’t breathe.
I didn’t know how much I depended on being depended on...Ah.
Time to grow up, Sherena.
Bon voyage all!xoxo
Ello, the name’s Sherena.
A homemade candlelight dinner/picnic for two on the beach!
Cuddling at home and watching a rented dvd together and eating popcorn
