The whole ordeal has felt surreal. It has been a week and it has not hit me yet: I'm home for good. I did not even get emotional saying goodbye to my Spanish family and friends or leaving the beautiful city I have called home the last five months. 'Bittersweet' is the only word kind of justifies what leaving/coming home has felt like. On the one hand, it was painful to leave Salamanca and to say "hasta luego" to the friends I have come to know and love in Spain. On the other hand, it has been so incredible to reunite with my American family and friends, to partake in some of the 'little things' I have missed for five months (ICED.COFFEE.), and to speak my native language all the time. I keep reminding myself of that phrase, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."
I already miss so much about Spain. I miss eating tapas, I miss walking everywhere, I miss meeting friends for café con leche, I miss going out late, I miss being forced to speak Spanish, I miss learning and feeling independent, I miss all of the people I met, I miss hearing "¡Hijas, a comer!" every day... I miss it all. You know you're in for a rude awakening when the man at customs at Logan Airport stamps your passport brusquely while saying, "Welcome back to reality." However, I was fortunate enough to go. I am fortunate to be home now, too. I'll just have to go back to Salamanca someday. (Especially since they wouldn't exchange my remaining Euro coins at the bank...)
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