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The coming day, the trip back to Milan was everything you could imagine it to be.

Tense, awkward and silent.

We did not speak for the whole morning. Kenny ate his breakfast in the living room rather of in bed with me like we had been doing every morning and after we checked out of the hostel we had to drive two hours back to the field in silence.

After that we got on the aeroplane and sat far down from each other for the coming eight hours back to Milan. For the entire morning each I wanted to do was cry and yet some how I'd managed to keep all the gashes at bay.

That was of course until the flight came 100 times worse for me when I suddenly felt extremely squeamish. Since Kenny was sitting ahead of me and he looked like he was busy working, I still slipped off my seat belt and went into the thankfully, slightly commodious, restroom near my seat.

I ended up leaning against the wall for about twenty twinkles in absolute agony until I inescapably threw up all my breakfast. It also did n