Greenville-Spartanburg airport for the second time in less than a month. Not much has changed since I began frequenting this quaint establishment since the early 1990s, except for the addition of free Wi-Fi (who knew) and a discount airline (which is kind of a big deal). The decor looks like it was modeled after a jacket that Will Smith sported on the Fresh Prince of Bel Air and can only be decribed as #bacon (actually that doesn't clarify much. I may explain at some point, but probably won't because sometimes that description makes people angry.)
Not much has changed at all. Not even the lump-in-throaty feeling I always got as a kid when leaving this place for a month, Manila-bound. This is the fifth time I've left here, knowing I won't be home for an entire semester, and I still can't shake it. Maybe that's a good thing. In fact, I hope I always do get a little choked up.
Irish music is playing for some bizarre reason, reminding me that I'm not in Dublin pre-gaming for the Emerald Isle Classic with some people I kind of like, which is exactly where I want to be. But I'm headed somewhere, and there's half-smile on my face because of it.
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