Often, I find myself comparing one date in the current year to the same date a year prior. What has happened in that year? How are things different now than they were before? It's not secret that it's a shock to the system one day waking up and finding oneself unemployed with no insurance and pretty much stranded. May 7th everything was normal and the way it had been for the 21 1/2 years prior, May 9th - a monday - I felt like I was floating alone. I hate that feeling, of being alone and feeling like there is no one around. Despite that fear, that's not what I've been thinking about lately. Going back a year, I was receiving my visa for Spain and packing for four months in Europe. I was about to go on a semester long vacation where I was more than entitled to spend my parent's money and I had no school work to do because I was well over a year ahead in credits. It was my semester to do anything I wanted to do after working my ass off for three and a half years. Quite lovely I would say, knowing that nothing is waiting for you except for the great unknown. Europe was waiting for me I guess or maybe I was waiting to go to Europe. It would be my second trip; the first being to Rome. I wasn't excited, nervous as fucking hell, anticipating the worse of course.
Without getting into "What I did for 5 months of my life in Europe" (hint: I drank. A LOT. Oh, and there were camels and beaches and desert-oh my), I will say that now I think about Spain and I ache. Everything as of late has been reminding me of Madrid. God forbid someone say 'tortilla', I feel the tears well up. I remember every little detail about that city. My long walks to Sol and Retiro. Staying out until the metro opened at 6 AM and then finding myself eating churros con chocolate. The way my room looked, the way Teresa's apartment looked and how she took care of me. Every little thing brings me right back there to Ventas. It makes me sad and I've never missed anything this much before. I think the problem is that other things that I miss, I know I'll see later. Like I missed my parents and friends while abroad, but I knew that in just a few short months I would see them again. This time it's different. When will I go back? I've been bitten by a Europe bug, it's not just Spain I want to get back to, because I know that the country is permanently engrained in my mind, but I just need-crave-to back to Europe.
I hate this feeling too; wanting something so badly and not knowing when I'll get it. But for now, i'll look at flights to Paris in March or Prague in May or Spain over the summer and think, it wasn't 'adios' it was 'hasta luego'.