Didn't know how long it was going to take me, but recently it finally hit me: I miss England.
Thing is, I'm not quite sure why. I very much enjoyed my time in England, but I was still homesick most of the time. By week 5 I was ready to go home. I was tired of always moving, always trying to see and do more. I missed my boyfriend. I missed driving. I missed Mexican food. I was ready before everyone else to pack up my bags and head back to the states.
Maybe I miss what I missed out on.
The more time passes here in the states, the more I wish I would've done in England. I wish I would've gone out more. I wish I would've hung out with my friends there more. I wish I had gotten to know the British more. I wish I had visited Oxford again. I wish I had ran around the Iffley Road Track. I wish I had traveled somewhere up north. I wish I would've gone for more walks and explored the city more. I wish I had purchased a bottle of Worcestershire sauce. I wish, I wish, I wish...
Funny thing is this wishing only set in recently. Everyone else seemed to have missed England the moment we arrived in Dayton. Everyone else seemed to want to go back immediately. Everyone else loves England and feels it's where they belong.
Me? Nope. It took four months for me to start thinking of England and actual miss it. Probably after three weeks of being in England (probably when I realized how much I crave mexican food) I realized I belonged in America. I belong in the country where stores are open 24/7. Where football means the scoring a touchdown instead of scoring a goal. Where people drive on the right side of the road. Where you don't have to pay to pee in a public restroom. You get my drift.
So why do I suddenly long to take a boat ride along the River Severn? Why do I want to go dance with my friends in one of the trashy named clubs like Sin & Bushwackers or Tramps (craft names aren't they)? Why do I want to go for a run in the Malvern hills?
Because I loved it.
Being homesick and missing loved ones did put a slight damper on my time in England. But it was still a dream come true. I was still in England. I got to see the English countryside I had literally dreamed of. I got to visit my dream European city. I got to hear English accents and visit so many places. I had high tea at the Pump rooms in Bath. I stood at the exact same spot where McCartney met Lennon and got chills; and I'm not even a Beatles fan! I almost cried at the track where Roger Bannister broke the 4 minute mile. I kissed the Blarney Stone in Ireland, tried Guinness for the first time, and saw Dolores O'Riordan (lead singer of the Irish band the Cranberries) house. I had one hell of a time in europe. And that was only visiting two countries.
There are always experiences I'll want to live over. There's always going to be things I wish I had, or hadn't, done. Not just in England, but wherever go and whatever I do. I'm sure once I'm done with college I'll look back and think of things I regret and the things I wish I could've experienced. It's a shame you can't do it all.
I guess it just goes to show that you really do have to live in the moment. While I was in England I shouldn't have been counting the days til I was home. I should've been trying to experience it all while I was right there in the middle of it. It's too late to realize that for then, but at least I'll know for the future. Because I will go back. I made a promise when I left England that one day I will return.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment