Just got home from seeing my mom and MaryAnn and having a delicious dinner of tapas and red wine, followed by a stroll down Passeig de Gracia and checking out the two Gaudi buildings and ending the evening with delicious hazelnut and dark chocolate gelato. Wonderful to have them here, I could not be happier to see them and to show them this city this week.
What's going on with me? Just hours ago I had convinced myself I was so content with leaving, with traveling for a few weeks and then returning to where I came from, to go to grad school like I had planned to. That plan seems so far away from me at this moment. I feel so torn, and so heartbroken. Walking home from the metro just now, I passed all these familiar fruiterias, bars and the homeless man who sleeps next to the garage next to my apartment who I see every single night. I thought about this city, and how I will no longer be living here in a mere 2 weeks. And that thought brought tears to me eyes. Am I ready? Can you ever be ready when you've made a place your home?
I try to consol myself with the fact that I'm following my heart by heading to grad school and I easily could have/still could choose to defer for a year and continue to make a life for myself here, but chose not to. Just today at the Best Buddies event where I spent the entire afternoon bowling with my buddy for the day, Christina, and speaking so much Spanish my head throbbed, the coordinator Emma mentioned she had talked to her director about a possible position for me in the fall, starting in September if I was interested. It threw me for a loop, if that's the correct expression. I explained to her that I had already decided to go home, and she was disappointed, saying she thought I'd be great. Confused doesn't begin to describe it. I wonder if I'm making the right choice to go home, to leave this city that ultimately makes me feel so alive, so at peace with my life and so grateful for every moment that allows me to speak Spanish, to learn something new about myself and to live in Europe.
i wish it was easy, I wish I was so done with this city that I could throw all my ratty clothes in a bag and take off without a backward glance, but I can't. I had this problem leaving Boston, leaving Chicago-not quite ready, yet realizing that moving to a new place or doing something different with my life was ultimately what I wanted. It's hard. It's really hard to imagine leaving here. Somewhat easier with most of my friends being gone, yet I found myself today making new friends with the other BB volunteers, so that doesn't make me feel that much better.
I'll be okay. I know this is part of leaving and moving on; learning to let go and to anticipate and look forward to the future and inevitable life changes. I just wish it didn't have to hit me on a Saturday night.
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