This is it. I am finally at the end of the rope and the year is finally on the last stretch. I can hardly believe that this is it and this is my last hoorah. It is sad to come to the realization that I cannot study abroad forever and I have to come back to Earth. I know I should be realistic and remember that reality cannot be put on hold forever, but can’t I just keep dreaming? My alarm clock is ringing and I cannot ignore it any longer.
As I am slowly confronting the reality of leaving Munich and the friends that I have made on the program, I am coming to terms with coming home. I feel extremely anxious about coming back. I am worried about the adjustment period, who I will know, how things will be, and what in the world I will do after graduation. In my last month, I tried to use this time to reflect. I think about how I have grown as a person. I have developed a better understanding of myself, my abilities, and comprehension of the world. I have been able to see and do things that previous generations never was able to do. I had survived the storm of finals, said my last farewell to my friends that I have made, and goodbye to the city I feel in love with. It is a bitter sweet end, but a last visit with Jacobo was comforting. Being in the mountains near the small town Avión, a town with the peak summer population of 100 people, I had to accept the nature. Being a person that is tends to avoid nature like the plague, it was a challenge. Although it was a great way to practice my Spanish and to get to know his family better. I met his extended family at his grandmother’s 90th birthday party. Saying that I was thrown into the deep end would be putting it lightly. I walked into his grandmother’s party like I was walking through a minefield. I was not sure where to go and conversations in what seemed to be rapid fire Spanish was intimidating to say the least. I seemed to get through it pretty well. After the dinner, Jacobo and I decided to go into Vigo and see some of the sights. We went to the same hotel where his parents had their wedding reception. It was stunning.
Before I knew it, we had already driven back to Pamplona and we were faced with the dreaded goodbyes at the Bilbao airport. It is the moment that I always dread the most, but this was harder than usual. We had to part ways without any idea of when we would see each other next. The words “goodbye” never tasted so sour. Although the departure was painful, I was soon back in Munich, in my hotel room, and waiting for my flight back home. Where does the time go? How did this experience just pass by without any sort of warning? How do I translate my experiences into anyone else? Why do I have to go home when I am already home here? These are the questions that I still ask myself. I still have feelings of detachment from what is supposed to be considered home and have hopes for the future. Maybe one day I won’t have to try to be in the middle of the tug of war with my obligations at home and my home in Europe. Fingers crossed that the future will provide an avenue to go back.