I heard something the other day. It was a whisper in the back of my mind, almost inaudible, like hearing a conversation through too-thin motel walls. But then it suddenly became icy clear when I read an excited Facebook status from a girl who I had studied with in Germany, who planned to go for another year and is already packing to go back...
I am restless.
Discontent.
I had slipped back into my life here like nothing had ever happened, and it felt like a blessing at first. But slowly a feeling crept upon me that perhaps all of my adventures across the pond happened to someone else: a dream that you remember vividly upon waking but fades after only minutes of consciousness.
Maybe I should be thanking my brain. I can't help but think there must be a reason for this imagined amnesia; is it because I know I have two more years of school here? Maybe my mind is protecting me -- this feeling of disconnection a way of self-protection, an attempt to let me enjoy my time here without constantly comparing it to the ultimate-thrills-per-minute way of life I lived while backpacking in Europe.
There is an itch deep in the soles of my feet now, something as real and constant as my own flesh and bone. My wanderlust has awakened, and I don't know if I can be fully happy until I'm walking into a new city.
I am restless.
Discontent.
I had slipped back into my life here like nothing had ever happened, and it felt like a blessing at first. But slowly a feeling crept upon me that perhaps all of my adventures across the pond happened to someone else: a dream that you remember vividly upon waking but fades after only minutes of consciousness.
Maybe I should be thanking my brain. I can't help but think there must be a reason for this imagined amnesia; is it because I know I have two more years of school here? Maybe my mind is protecting me -- this feeling of disconnection a way of self-protection, an attempt to let me enjoy my time here without constantly comparing it to the ultimate-thrills-per-minute way of life I lived while backpacking in Europe.
There is an itch deep in the soles of my feet now, something as real and constant as my own flesh and bone. My wanderlust has awakened, and I don't know if I can be fully happy until I'm walking into a new city.
