"To come home from another home is a weird feeling, because people expect you to be the person you were when you left, and that’s impossible.
You expect things to be exactly the same as when you left, and that’s impossible.
Maybe it’s impossible to even truly come home once you've gone away because of those changes. Coming home is strange, because now that place is just a tiny bit less of a home."
I've yet to discover the word for the feeling I have when I’m leaving a country. It’s a feeling that never entirely makes sense to me, because although I've only been living there for a few weeks or months, I do grow as a person during my stay. I work, write, learn, and (hopefully) become a better me. I develop friendships and memories and learn to appreciate the language and culture. Each trip is another addition to my life story, but also another life to leave behind when I leave.
Georgia and I ended up leaving on the 28th together. However, she was headed home to Australia while I was on my way to Paris to work for a few days. On our last few days in London we were both working for our agency with jobs and tests, but also tried to fit in a few days of last minute exploring and tourism. We saw the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, spent a day on the infamous Brick Lane where international and local graffiti artists alike have tagged their names and pieces, but mostly we had dinner together and chatted endlessly in the night about nothing in particular.
I think one of the hardest aspects of traveling as a model might be the close friendships you form along the way, only to have the possibility after the contract to maybe never see the other again. Not saying that’s what will happen for Geo and I, as we both have plans to be in Europe in the fall, but the fact the thought lingers ever so silently in the air as you’re saying good-bye is a hard one.
As I write this, I’m currently traveling to Stuttgart, Germany to spend a month long vacation with one of my dearest friends. Beside me on the train are two young boys traveling with their grandmother. I’m ashamed to say my German has gotten so bad that I can hardly pick out half the words they spout out so fast each minute, but I do catch a few words or sentences. Sitting across me is an older gentleman who’s actually from Virginia. We’re spending the afternoon chatting about our travels and a little about sports. We both dislike Alabama.
I’ll have an update of what ended up happening in Paris at the beginning of next week, plus a few interest posts for everyone as well. For now, I’m simply going to enjoy the train ride while listening to Ben Howard and attempt to write an essay for school.