Letters to August - 8

(6:45 AM)

Dear August, 

I am alone in my apartment. Everyone has left and the sun hasn't even begun to rise. My eyes are so heavy from a restless night on a crappy twin-sized mattress that should probably not have been shared by two full-grown humans, but we had to get a slumber party in before we parted ways. 

When I was in elementary school I cried every single last day of school. It got to the point where my dad (who is the biggest softy in the world) refused to pick me up on the last day because he couldn't handle how upset I would get. I have always dreaded goodbyes. I mean, no one enjoys them, but I think I always let them cut a little too deeply. 

There are so many things that I wish I would have done differently during my time here in Orlando, but at the same time I think what I would have done differently would have made the cut of goodbye a little too deep to actually handle. I know that's cryptic, but that's all I'm giving you for now. 

God's ways are not my own and right now I'll just put my trust in that.  I'll trust in the happiness that He has always provided in His own way that is perfect for me. 

The sun is starting to rise and I just heard my last roommate stirring in her room. I guess I'm not the last of the Mohicans just yet, but man it sure does feel like it.

Love, Jazmin