We’ve come to the end of this narrative adventure.
I woke up late again today. I feel like crap. The thing about this illness is: it’s a shape-shifting suckfest.
But today, Roo is home; I am home; New York is home, at least for now.
It has all been worth it.
It was worth the rash that began in Hong Kong and spread:
(Oh, Internet, I’m not afraid of showing you what one of these rashes looks like. This is my reality.)
It was worth all the weird and wonderful moments in Singapore:
It was worth an overnight flight to London; straightening my hair; fighting persistent jetlag:
It was worth the strange and too-short weekend.
It is worth these stolen, snuggle Sunday moments.
It is always worth it.