Moving back home from Paris was something I’d been so excited about for a while.. Seeing my family, hanging out with friends, late night Taco Bell. I was so ready to have my own place, to catch up with everyone and to begin a new chapter in my life – even though I had no idea at the time what that next chapter would be.
Now that I’ve been back for a month, all of that has happened and I’ve been left with a giant hole in my heart that keeps getting bigger. For the first few weeks I was just so overjoyed with being back that I didn’t have time to think about how much Paris had actually become a part of me. But now that the initial excitement of all of it has passed, I’m a bit lost. My heart has become a crippled remnant of what it was before and I’m just now realizing it.
I knew it’d be hard, of course but never thought that I could be overcome by such strong emotion in such quick succession. Paris was my home and leaving it has now become one of the hardest things I’ve done. I know I’ll go back one day but it’s still so difficult to think about no longer being there. When you love something so beautiful, it’s hard to let go. So, I guess that’s what I’m going through.
I’m a wanderer at heart and that will never change, so though my heart is broken, I’m focusing as much of my attention on my next adventure as I can. The world is full of adventure and I’m just trying to find it.