Last night as I sat in a crowded, dirty bar in my hometown looking around at all the people who I went to high school with (most of whom hardly even remember me), I had never felt a greater desire to get out. Out of this town, out of this state, out of this country. It is true when they say that the desire to travel never goes away, it only grows stronger. I don't know what it was about being in that grimy bar that brought on my wanderlust so strongly. Maybe it was all these people that had never given me the time of day in high school. But no, I wasn't bitter about that. I think it was the fact that I know how much more I want for myself than being stuck in this town my whole life. It is true that there aren't many job opportunities in this town and that a good amount of its inhabitants avoid working like the plague. However, this is my home. It is the place I was born and raised my entire life. The kid that I went to kindergarden with was also the kid that sat next to me at my high school graduation. But, maybe this was the problem. The fact that wherever I go, I run into someone I know. The beauty of living in London was that I could go to the store or walk down the street without every single person knowing who I was. Yes, there are definite upsides to living in a close-knit community; yet that feeling of animosity is so empowering. It is empowering to walk down the street and and be yet another face in the crowd. To some, this mindset may feel lonely. To me, it feels like an opportunity. It feels free.
Ever since I left Europe, I knew that I would be going back. By now, my London memories feel more like a really good dream than actual memories. Like that one time my friend Jess and I hung out by Big Ben after getting lost on the night bus. Or that other time when we made friends with an Italian girl and a Czech girl by the Eiffel Tower and they taught us how to sneak on the Parisian metro. My experience in London feels like a three and a half month dream. Coming back to reality was comforting, yet constricting. That feeling of wanderlust keeps creeping back up on me at the most random times. I know that there are varying degrees of wanderlust. For me, I feel like I got the brunt of it out the majority of us that went to London together. Most look at their time abroad as an experience, but are happy leaving it as a memory. For me, it is my solace. In college, I would get drunk and look at my European pictures and cry. I mean literal tears. Like I was mourning my time abroad (pathetic, I know). It is so hard for people who haven't been abroad to understand the feeling. And yes, I sound like one of those know-it-all study abroad snobs (maybe I am haha), but it's so hard to explain how it feels to physically miss a place and all its people when you have only lived there for a short time. For me, London will always be my second home. It's a hard reality to face that I may never get to live there again, with their strict laws and all the hoops that I would have to pass through as an American. So, for now, I am searching for a new adventure. Of course I will always love my London, but I think I may have found something perfect for me...but that is for another time and another blog entry :)
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