Longing

Gladstone is a small town. 

With only a couple main streets that you have to frequent to get just about anywhere. 

One of those main streets takes you right by the airport- the very small airport with only a few flights in and out each day. 

So it is rare that I happen to be driving by while a plane is departing or arriving.

I have to confess though, that when it does happen that a plane is taking off as I pass, I feel an overwhelming sense of longing. 

For a short moment, I wish that I was on that plane-wherever it was going. 

Because most likely it is headed somewhere closer to the things and people that I love.

It's almost like I'm jealous of the strangers crammed onto that plane and for a moment wish it were me.

It's not that I'm unhappy here, or sad all the time, or terribly homesick.

Because I'm not.  In fact I really do like it here. 
I know what an amazing (and temporary) opportunity this is, and for the most part am really loving this time.

I guess it's just a momentary reminder of how far away I really am. 

It's not that I necessarily wish I was somewhere else, because I know that is no way to live.

I think it's more that I wish I could be in more than one place at once.