The Best Night.

My last night in Kingwood was by far my favorite. I don't know that words could do it justice.

The end of a beautiful trip was coming too rapidly. I was scared of the end from the very beginning, and it had finally caught up with me. Being with my sister and brother-in-law and taking in the unique beauty that is Lake Livingston was the highlight of week one. Week two was a blissful blur of reunions and multiple trips to Sonic. I was home, restored, healed, confident, assured, and grounded. But it all passed too quickly, and the happy memories ended before I could properly engrave them into my mind. I felt my heart sinking with the sun on that Saturday night, with the 5:30 am flight fast approaching. Lindsey, Kate, Natalie and I were all congregated with Morgan on her zebra-clad bed, and I think they felt the time slipping as well. Maybe that's why they went and bought the Red Bulls, and maybe that's why Kate stayed behind with me as I packed. I know it was out of love that Natalie, who is half-Mexican, FINALLY allowed me to give her a Chonga makeover. She endured the thick coats of foundation and even the artificial eyebrows, and played the part freakishly well as Lindsey shot what can arguably be considered the most hilarious photo shoot this world has ever seen. We didn't sleep, but we had several empty cans of Red Bull and laughter-induced tears to show for the lost hours of rest.

3 am rolled around and the five of us piled into Kate's mom's minivan (complete with automatic sliding doors) and headed out for the Waffle House. Time finally began to slow and give me a short reprise from it's torture; we weren't in a hurry. It was one of the best meals I've ever had. I think waffles take on some sort of magic quality in the hours of early morning. And so did we. We laughed so much as we sat around that greasy table. Someone peed their pants. From laughter. Seriously. And we may or may not have found her in the Waffle House bathroom, desperately trying to wash out her capris in the sink. (This person's identity has been censored due to my desire to remain friends with her). It was the best breakfast of my life, and I don't think the calories count when you are that happy.

I've never felt as loved as I did when we arrived at the airport. Kate lapped the place an infinite number of times, searching for the short-term parking so that I wouldn't roam the lonely airport alone. Natalie yelled directions at her- everyone was laughing. When we finally parked, everyone insisted on carrying some piece of my luggage. Lindsey charged ahead with my ticket and found my check-in area. It was as if I was their child. "Does she have a luggage tag for this?", Morgan demanded, gesturing towards my camera bag. "Here, let me do it...Emily, what's your contact information", asked Lindsey, pen at the ready. They insisted on taking care of me from start to finish. Even the long security line was made fun by my faithful group of well-wishers. They remained behind after our last embraces, watching my progress in the torturous line and waving until I was out of sight. I can't explain how much it meant to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for that night and for that entire beautiful week in Kingwood.

I'm back in California and trying to stay positive. I'm happier here, now that I know I really do exist at home. God has blessed me with some incredible friends who are teaching me a great deal. I know I'm here for a reason, but I have to be willing to keep my mind and heart open and LOOK for it.

"It's interesting how you sometimes have to leave home before you can ask difficult questions, how the questions never come up in the room you grew up in, the town in which you were born. It's funny how you can't ask difficult questions in a familiar place, how you have to stand back a few feet and see things in a new way before you realize nothing that is happening to you is normal"

-Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts