I passed up on an opportunity to go to Vienna today with my flatmate. It's absolutely gorgeous out, and I spent the day in leggings, a sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks eating leftovers and watching How I Met Your Mother. Even my attempts at productivity-taking a stab at grading some essays, starting to create lesson plans for next week-inevitably returned to my staring at the screen, my eyes starting to ache a little because I have almost literally done nothing else today.
Guess what? I'm homesick.
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| This is what I want right now. |
I miss Minneapolis. I miss the river, my backyard, Lake Street. I miss the dog. I miss my bookshelves, and my teddy bear, and my handmade quilt. I miss being able to read signs, and knowing I won't have to wander around a grocery store looking for an obscure item, because I could always ask someone and they would understand me. I miss church, and playing with the babies every Sunday morning. I miss the newspaper and the crosswords that came with it. I miss the Riverview. I miss my bike. I even miss the absurd weather. But most of all, I miss the people. I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss watching football with my dad, and cooking with my mom. I miss curling up with my sisters on the couch. I miss feeling like I belong somewhere.
As much as I've grown to appreciate Bratislava, it doesn't feel like home. I've hit the point in my time overseas that the cultural quirks have ceased to be simply baffling or endearing, but annoying. When I was at this point of my time in Prague, I had decided to go home after the death of my grandfather, and was counting down the days until I could get on the plane. But that's not an option now. And even if it was, it's not one I would want to take advantage of.
Being away from home is hard. Starting a new job is hard. Living in a new country, with new people and a new language is hard. Doing all those things at once? It's really, really freaking hard.
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| And this. |
But life should be hard. If you never challenge yourself, you're never going to grow. I've been following the blogs of some of my fellow expats, and watching their journey from being exactly where I am right now, to loving their lives and not wanting to leave is incredibly inspiring. If I gave up and went home I would never forgive myself. Because yes, being homesick sucks. But regret, I think, would suck more. Those what ifs, those giant question marks, they'd never go away.
I don't regret going home last October. It's what I needed, it's what my family needed. I am absolutely certain I made the right decision there. I'm equally sure that right now I'm where I'm supposed to be, and not only because I'm finally living and working here legally. No matter what else happens, whether I decide to stay next year or not, I definitely won't be leaving Slovakia the same person I was when I arrived.
So, no. I'm not going to beat myself up about not going to Vienna today, or even about not leaving the house. I'm in the middle of an adventure, but even adventurers need days off.
