I can't believe it's really over.  I have to wake up in eight hours from now and head to the airport.

i've never, in my entire life, had something so hard to have to deal with when I get back.  I am so happy that I found out what happened back home while I was here, cause if I hadn't found it out while I was here, it would all still be there on my walls and in my room for me to see when I get back.  Since I'm lucky enough to have a group of such incredible friends, it's all been cleaned up and is gone, so I don't have to see it when I get home.  But in some ways, that makes it weirder.  That shit happened.  And it's gone.

In so many ways, I've already moved passed it and have been able to focus on the amazing things I've done while here and not think about it.  But now, i'm going back there in a few hours.  And when I do, I have to realize that someone actually hates me enough to have done what they did to me.  And I don't even know who did it.  So I have to go back to a town where there is someone who actually HATES me.  Not even dislikes.  But actually hates, enough to go out and be as cruel to me as they were.  I am a strong woman.  And luckily I am, cause otherwise I wouldn't have been able to have the best time of my life while over here despite what happened.  But even being as strong as I am, that doesn't make it easy to go back to that.  And as much as I thank, from the bottom of my heart, all of my incredible friends who went to my house and cleaned the cruelty away, and took care of my cats, and did so many incredibly kind things for me that I don't know how I can ever thank them... that still doesn't erase the hurt that exists from what happened.  I wish it could, so much.  But now I have to go back, and have people ask me who I think did it.  And there's a fucking witch hunt happening back there, a witch hunt that I've even taken part of from here, throwing friends of mine on the fire and accusing.

Now that the trip is ending, it's so hard to say to myself, 'It doesn't matter.  You're living out one of your dreams.  Enjoy it.'.  Because now, that dream is over.  Now I have to go back to a place where someone hates me enough t have done what they did.  I want so much to be able to say it doesn't matter, but it DOES. I'm going home to find all of the money I'd saved to live on when i get back is gone.  I'm going back to the realization that someone was in my fucking bedroom, and rooted through my personal belongings like they were nothing.  To a place where someone hated me so much that they spraypainted the wall in my bedroom.  My BEDROOM.  The only place in the world that is totally mine.

I will get past this.  I know that.  But I hate, I hate so much, that I have to.  All I did was take myself on a vacation I've dreamt of my whole life.  Why is that something that could make someone do something so cruel to me?

Sorry.  I'm a little drunk right now and just don't know how to move past this at the moment.