Homesick vs never wanting to come home.

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Pretty colors that have nothing to do with this blog post and everything to do with the fact that London has been feeling pretty gray recently compared to the colors of India. We’re studying Southeast Asia in music and it seems that social media has been extra colorful lately, so thanks Borough Market for satisfying my photography craving for brighter colors.

Every once in a while, I get homesick. I start to miss the comforts of the suburban life that I grew up with- the big grocery stores, a car, drive thrus, little things like that. After a few off days spent dreaming about America, something in me switches, and whether that’s genuine city love on my part or sheer determination on the side of the universe to keep me from giving up on my big dreams, I don’t know. And it’ll come in a moment that would otherwise be unrecognizable- a quick glance down a street of row houses near the church, walking out of the underground and patting my Oyster card on the yellow pad, a look outside the window during dinner- and I remember, I’m in London. This is my dream. I love it here. I love the city. I love this city.

Three weeks from Monday I’ll be on a plane heading back to America. Back to my family, my friends, and real life. I’ve got all sorts of feelings about it, and from the talk buzzing around the center, I’m not the only one. We all love London, so much. And the fact that we only have three weeks left abroad is breaking our hearts. But at the same time, we’re ready to go back. We’re ready to find our individual routines again and move forward with our lives. There’s not much progression we can do here anymore- our perspectives have shifted, our world views have changed, we’ve travelled and experienced more than we could have ever dreamed! And now we’re ready to head back West and apply it, to pursue our degrees and our jobs and our futures, always remembering this time in London where we changed and grew more than we expected to. So right now, I’m ready to go home. I’m excited to be reunited with all of those American things (and people!) that I’ve missed. And at the same time, I can’t believe it’s almost over. That I’ll never be studying abroad again, that I won’t be sharing a room with 7 other girls anymore, that pulling out my Oyster card won’t happen in my sleep anymore, that a croissant a day won’t be a habit. It’s hard to put this bittersweet feeling in to words. I’ve got three more weeks to figure it out, so fair warning, that last blog post is going to be so sappy and reflective, and probably I’ll be crying, both sad and happy tears.

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