keys.

i'm laying in my bed at the bureau.
it is after 1 o'clock in the morning.
my bags are semi-packed, laying on the floor.
my clothesline in my room is empty for the first time in over 9 weeks.
my bed frame is cleared of books, my journal is packed, all that remains are my keys...
the keys i will give ashley tomorrow as we say goodbye, for now.

the key to my blue moto that i hated so much at first and now love and drive all over.
the key to the courtyard of the bureau that i never have to fumble with at night because Mathias always makes sure to turn the front light on for me every single night before he leaves his office.
the key to the storage shed that is neatly organized and labeled now.
the key to the clinic where medical supplies are now organized and labeled.
the key to my room, my home for the past 9 weeks.
the key to the cabinet in the meeting room that i can now find anything in.
the key to the garage out front where i grab soap from every single day...so the kids have it to shower, to wash dishes with, to wash their clothes with.
something as insignificant as a keyring has so much meaning.
those keys represent something.
they represent a memory made.
they represent a task accomplished.
they represent part of my life here.

it all just seems impossible right now.
in this moment i do not see how i can possibly leave here.
i know that's hard for some people at home to swallow.
i'm sure many who love me dearly wish i was crying to be home right now.
but i will be quite honest in this moment...that is far from the truth.
the crying only starts when i begin thinking about not being here.
not laughing with them. not eating with them. not hugging them. not being with them.

the reality that i will be on a plane this time tomorrow night instead of sleeping under my mosquito net, resting before another great day here with these amazing kids and people is heartbreaking to me.
absolutely heartbreaking.
i love them.
i love them so much.
they have changed my life.

i wish you could all know them.
i really do.
i wish you could hear their laughter.
see their sweet smiles.
feel their hugs.
share life with them. their day-to-day, adventurous, never the same life.

i am so grateful for this time i have been given here with them. everyone welcomed me with open arms.

my only consolation is that i know tomorrow i will not be telling them goodbye...i will be telling them "see you later". just like i do every single day when they walk away from the orphanage to go to school. and i will see them later. i have never been more confident of anything in my life.