Like 14 times, I’ve tried. And I just can’t do it.
Because, right now, pictures of what I ate and of the husband not smiling aren’t really what I’m concerned about.
I can’t travel-log because I’m too busy trying to soak up every second.
I will not even attempt to explain the surreal nature of this experience. To finally be breathing the same air and drinking coffee from the same coffeepot of a person that has become family is really indescribable.
So I won’t even try any longer.
Just know that we made it to Georgia in one piece. And that since the second I bolted out of my van door in Tiffani's driveway Saturday night, we've been relishing every second. We’re pinching ourselves to make sure each other are real. And I’m afraid to go to sleep tonight because I’m afraid this is all a dream.
Excited doesn’t do it justice.
That's Tiff and I blogging nextdoor to eachother. Wanna know what she was sayin'? Truck on over here.