I’ve gained perspective. I’ve lived a thousand miles from home. I’ve been forced to adapt, and I’ve disappeared from normal life. Spain, you’ve shown me my place in the world. Out in that big scary place we call reality, there’s so much to do, to be enticed by, to give in to, to resist, to yearn for, and to work toward.
You’ve got to know yourself before anyone else can really know you. I’ve never felt closer to myself.
In a foreign country, you’re forced to be independent. Yes, certain situations are uncomfortable. You deal. More often than not, things don’t go as planned. When you fall, you stand up, wipe off the dust, and throw your shoulders back. No one tells you who, what, where, when, why, or how. You create your own happiness.
A lot people struggle with admitting homesickness; however, I don’t know if this word fits. We long for comfort and the ease of everyday life. I’m anxious to return? I don’t know if this word fits, either. What’s it going to be like? What did I leave behind? What’s changed? What hasn’t? It’s only been a semester, but with time comes change. It’s a fact of life. Being removed from “the scene” takes some adjustment. Sure, I have internet and communication, but images and messages just aren’t the same as physical presence. At the end of the day, people move on. We change, often for the better, sometime for the worse – but still, it’s change. From an “outsider” looking in, I imagine my “normal” life as a white room like in those CSI shows. I’m standing on the other side of the sound proof looking-glass, secretly peering through. I can see everyone, but they can’t really see me. I’ve observed. I’ve thought. I’ve gained perspective.
You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place, I told him, like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.