The time is coming. The time for me to go home. But home is Madrid for me now. What will I do in my old house? How will I handle things? These last two months were so great, I didn’t even notice when time flew by.
I’m sad that I am going and I can only hope that when I fly back things will start all over again and everything will be the same. Now I’m in my bed, in my ugly room that I love so much, and I’m just thinking that I don’t want to go. I wish I could stop time.
I’ll still come to the same flat, in the same city, but in January most of my flat mates will leave because they’ll finish their Erasmus. Today I was to our neighbours’ flat, that is almost the same as ours, they also have lots of fiestas but I was bored. It was just not the same like our partys.
Maby I should change or pick up the clothes from the floor but I just can’t stop thinking that nexr Saturday I’ll leave Madrid. And I’m sad.
