time is running out, and I feel kind of like a reverse Dorothy. i'm back in this place I've come to love right down to each stitch and seam, and the fabric is slowly tearing apart and telling me it's time to go "home." only I don't want to. this is my home, not fairfield. the people i love are all here. saying adieu to everyone I've reconnected with for a month is proving to be nearly as hard as those painful days back in late August when I hugged everyone half to suffocation and cried enough tears to rival the capacity of the Atlantic Ocean. I know this for the first time. I used to be a bit of a "Jersey hater," in love with a dream of sashaying off to California (and don't get me wrong, I'm every bit the starry-eyed West coast dreamer I once was), but now I realize I'm in love with the Garden State, with the Turnpike dirty as it may be, with the overcrowding and city-like conditions, with suburbia, with the place I can honestly say I grew up. and I guess I have to face just that fact-that I'm growing up, that goodbyes are part of life, that this is what I have to do, this is what I have to overcome, to comply with adulthood and what the world is asking of me, and what I'm asking of myself.