My last overwhelming thought as I board the plane is "i should stay," because I can only think about those big brown eyes and those slow tears that were gliding down his smooth brown cheek, and I am sad. Four years ago it was the same. But it was not a sadness that came and went, it was an underlying permanent sadness that never left. This time it has been intensified; layered, and I don't know what to do.
My heart is torn in half, and half of it is staying in Ghana with a small boy I only know by chance. But like the people of this country who much rely on faith, I will choose to believe that this will all work out. I just hope he knows how much I love him.