sunrise, sunset

Alright, so I haven't died and dropped off the planet. Maybe the latter, but I'm working my way back.
It feels weird to be updating my blog from my desk in Michigan, on a new computer, and without a fresh chunk of German chocolate sitting on my desk. It's funny, because although those were often my loneliest times abroad, I still miss them horribly. I spent so many nights cooped up in my room alone, watching illegal movies until the wee hours of the morning. I did that a lot simply because going out was expensive and I was trying to save every last penny to travel. One of my fondest memories is curling up on my loft, watching Shrek 3 and eating paprika chips.
I was so sure that once I was home, I would regret all those hours of solitude, doing things I could easily have done here. But then again, I wasn't in Europe to travel for 11 months straight. I was actually living there. And I am not the type to thrive well while running around partying 24/7. And when I did get out, by golly I was living life. But in order to appreciate what I was constantly seeing and experiencing, I needed that down-time to properly absorb and digest.
There is one part in Forrest Gump where I think he's talking to Jenny and she's laying in bed dying of AIDs. I forget what question she asks him, but he begins talking about several different moments in his life where he's seen truly beautiful things. Now, I certainly have not lived to the extent that Forrest Gump does in the film, but I guess sometimes that happens to me about Europe. I remember the moments that stood out so distinctly for me, that it chokes me up trying to recall them. Sometimes I miss Europe so much that it aches inside of me.

-I remember first walking into the city center of Prague immediately after the sun had set. The sky was a deep cobalt color and the impressive spires of the city only looked simply breathtaking with such a backdrop.
-I remember my first day out alone in Freiburg, and returning home to realize that it had been my first day not consulting a map at all. I also cooked dinner for myself that night with fresh ingredients that I had just purchased from the Edeka around the corner
-I remember getting lost in Rome at night, while holding John's hand and enjoying the balmy air. We were sure lost, but we were also together in one of the most ancient and beautiful cities in the world, and that was ok with me.
-I remember wandering into the Freiburg cathedral on a lazy Sunday, and hearing someone playing the organ. No one else was listening so I sat for a few minutes, closed my eyes, and heard some perfectly played Bach echoing off walls which had been erected in the 15th century.
-I remember watching the Belgian family that sat across from me on a train from Vienna to Budapest. I understood very littly with my limited French, but I understood enough to realize that I was watching a very close, loving family interacting. It made my heart warm.
-I remember flying out of Amsterdam and watching the expanse of the flat country spread out below me as we ascended. I was in dreadful pain, due to my head cold, and without saying anything, Julia reached over, patted my arm, and asked me if it reminded me of home.
-I remember my night train from Paris to Karlsruhe. I was laying down in a row of seats and gazing out the window upside-down while my travel companion was cuddled up in the row across from me. The night was crystal clear and I just stared up at the stars until I dozed off.
-I remember finding a place to eat in Bucharest on Easter Monday, when half the city was shutdown due to the holiday. We eventually found a hole in the wall that specialized in Arabic food and upon realizing that we were Americans, the waitresses face lit up. She struggled trying to show off her English but understood enough to know that we wanted no meat and was wildy eager to please us. She also gave us half our meal for free and we tipped her excessively. She'll always stick out in my memory not only because she was so kind, but because there was also something so tragic about her.
-I remember driving into Turkey during our overnight bus ride, and seeing my first mosque by night, only a few hours before the sun rose. The spires were all lit up and looked like golden beacons in the night sky. It was simply breathtaking and made more magical since I was the only one awake on the bus.
-I remember laying awake in our hostel bunk bed in Munich and chatting with my Lizzy, just like we had done as 6th graders, but doing it an ocean away from where we had both grown up and realizing how far we had both come since then.
-I remember my last sunset overlooking Freiburg. Christoph insisted on taking me up the Schlossberg one last time, on the night before I left, and the weather was perfect. The entire city was bathed in a rosy glow and we sat there for a good hour, talking about the past year and what the future held in store for both of us. I have seen several sunsets in my 22 years, but that sunset was far and away the best I have ever seen or felt. I know very few of you got the opportunity to visit me and see how gorgeous a panoramic view of Freiburg was, but the city is beautiful in so many ways and I wish I could have shared it with all of you. It was undoubtedly the most powerful way to end my time in Germany. Pictures could not even have begun to capture the experience.

I've listed a few of these thoughts so as to try to get you all to understand what I mean when I say I miss Europe. I realize that everyone misses the past places they've lived in some way or another, but it's different when you completely transplanted yourself at a young age to another continent. I made good friends in Europe and I hope to see them again, but I did not get as attached to any one person or even Germany as much as I got attached to Europe as a whole. It satisfied me in so many ways the USA didn't and I suppose I miss it in the way that other women miss old lovers.
So when I purchased my plane ticket to Scotland this morning, it made me excited, but not in the way that I've been excited about trips in my past. I cried out of relief, simply realizing that I get to go back, and see ancient cathedrals, moderately sized vehicles, and lively street pubs. I get to meet, talk, and share a beer with people from all over the world. I get to hear church bells, different languages being spoken, and ambulance sirens that play a tritone. I miss it all so, so, so much and need this trip more than I initially realized. Yes, I know that it is expensive and "impractical" to go to the UK right now, but I need to get away from the American work-work-work mentality. My soul feels more at rest simply knowing that in May I will be back on the other side of the Atlantic. My only fear is that going back will remind me that I will someday want to permanently.
I am not trying to run away from the job search and organizing my life, but I feel that the reasons provided above can justify my future wanderings. I have a feeling that going back for 10 days will satiate me, and I will once again be ready to conquer all things American.

But of course, this all depends on what I dwell on in my moments of solitude.