Belive it or not but on monday this week did I take the flight back home again, arrived tuesday evening. And? It feels so damn wierd. And depressing. I thought things would feel a bit better if I came home but nah, probably just feel even worse now to be honest. I guess the fact is that you cannot run away from your feelings, it doesn´t work like that. I left as a happy and positive person and came back as a fucking mess. I had a great time tho, I wont say no to that, not at all. But it´s like I immidetaily feeling trapped in the same old as before, incluseive the feelings I have now so it all just feels even worse. I were looking forward to finally have my own room, after been sharing for two fucking years, I needed some space.. But taking over what used to be my little sisters room makes me feel so.. sick. Its small, dark and with windows facing the next apartment builidings windows. And Im feeling silly for even complainig about it, I should be happy about just having my own room again but no.. 

Soso many times have I thought about going back home, kept on going back and forward about it, kept on wondering if it really would be the right descision. I´m honestly so happy that I stayed everytime before. This time did it not really matter, my visa runs out in a few weeks anyway so whatever. Oh well I am here now and I will try do the best of the situiation. Probably wont stay for to long... 


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