Leaving the States

(Written during my last moments in the States.) As the plane takes off, I cry. Surprisingly, it isn’t for any particular person or group of people. No, I have already shed those tears. I cry for my country. I know it sounds silly and romantic, but when you know that you will not be back for a long time, that last moment before the back wheels leave the ground is one you won’t readily forget. I long for my country and everything that makes it what it is: cowboys and pride in our flag. I love this country. I love this country and I’m going to miss it. Nothing specific, but it is my home. Was home? No, is home. I will miss it.