I've written and spoke over and over again about my discontent with being home and my yearn to be back abroad. I've bored all of my friends and even annoyed myself with my endless drone. However, I cannot shake it--the nostalgia. Every single day i am reminded of how very far i am from where i felt most alive. It sounds so incredibly dramatic but today marks seven months since ive been home, which makes it ten months since i first left. Over and over again I surprise myself with how quickly time passes. Not a day goes by that I dont miss the beautiful places, people, and moments--or ache for the person I was in those months.
A lot of this hits home more so now because it is summer, and i can no longer distract myself with coursework of my last semester, and now I've graduated. So now what? Too much time in my own head has never served me well, and with no set path or plan for future months, i end up back in those wonderful three months where my only worry was not having wifi once i left my flat. Its also scary because although these moments of life seem engraved in my very skull, they also seem to be fading with time.
I try to be positive and assert the fact that i will be able to go back abroad one day, but since that day is undetermined it is much easier to attempt to reverse time and to re-live those three months. It doesnt help that I get a sharp pang of jealousy whenever I see other people, either that i know or through the internet, being able to explore all these beautiful places--especially when I know ive been in that exact spot in their photos.
So for now I will continue to be homesick for the places I only knew for a few months, or a few days, or a few hours and pray and dream that i will be back someday soon. xx
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{ all photos taken by: me // mostly with 35mm film (7/18 with iphone) // London, Barcelona, Madrid, Paris }
- xxS
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