Here’s what happened abroad.
Things were difficult to adjust to so what we did over the past four months was create a world for ourselves, in this alternate universe that is study abroad, that we could help each other through, filter in the good stuff, bond over the bad stuff, and survive in. And we’ve found that, the crazier things get, for amazing or for awful, the more necessary it is to adjust and carve out something to hold onto.
We did that. HARD.
Now it’s form fitted. All the grooves fit us just right and I don’t really remember how to live in any other world. And honestly, I’m afraid for my sanity when I get back home. I’m having a really, really hard time imagining a life where breakfast burritos and MOB and easyJet and dieci and the 16 tram and jam sessions and dropping 90 inside jokes in one sentence doesn’t exist. But that world is home. Better known as “home-home.” And we were all so pumped to go back to that world few weeks ago.
But something changed.
Both worlds are real. But one, we sort of have to leave here.
We’ll take lots with us, sure. We’ll even take each other into our “home-home” lives, thank god. But there’s so much we’ll never get back once we get on those planes on Friday, man.
I can’t stand that. I can’t.
This little big world has been our everything, all that exists, for the past four months. And I fought for this happiness. This ability to say I am comfortable in an alien world. We fought for it. We fought tooth and tears and freaking nail. The fight has changed all of us and we’re just rolling in the victory now, slurping each other up like we’ll be here forever, but there isn’t enough time to enjoy it like we deserve.
There’s never enough freaking time.
This is just me, phoning home.
I’m so excited to see you again. But I really need to warn you.
I’m about to be that girl with that classic case of study-abroad depression.
PLEASE DISTRACT ME WHEN I COME BACK.
PLEASE BE PATIENT WITH MY STORIES.
AND IF YOU CAN’T BE PATIENT ANYMORE,
PLEASE DO SOMETHING ELSE TO DISTRACT ME.
Then maybe leave me be and don’t make fun of my broken Italian when I get to escape back via Skype?