Just....amazing.

Hey people,

I thought that this time round I would do a more personal blog. By personal, I don’t mean I shall be divulging any of my deep dark secrets, so if that’s what you’re after, I’m afraid you will be disappointed.

But anyway. I got back into Toledo about 4 hours at the time of writing this, and I’m exhausted, but I think I’ve got so much adrenaline running through my veins at this moment in time that I won’t sleep that much, if at all tonight. The reason for this? I went back to England on Thursday, after 10 weeks of being out of the country, of not seeing my family and friends, and generally just being an English person. Whenever people ask me how it was, I answer with one word, and the same word every time- AMAZING!

As far as my memory goes back (and as I do drink on the odd occasion, my memory isn’t quite what it used to be) it was one of the best weekends I’ve ever had. It was certainly one of the most intense, and definitely one of the most emotional. I spent a lot of Sunday crying, happy crying, sad crying- bitter-sweet crying. I also cried this morning at the airport as my mum waved me away, and I also cried a little in the departure lounge.

This may sound like it’s because I’m unhappy in Spain. Far from it. I’m not quite sure why I was so emotional, but it just seemed to me that I realised just how lucky I was, and how much I have...I realised how much I love my family, my friends, the little jokes you have with friends, and just how much people love and care about you, and how much you love and care about them. But then, I am also a strong enough person that I can move abroad, I can be out here, in another culture and using another language, and survive...

I spent almost half my time with my family in Essex, and then the other half with my friends in Kent where I normally study. Both halves were equally as amazing. In Essex, I had a meal cooked for me, I watched tv with my mum like the good old days, and I picked my brother up from school and picked him up like I used to. In Canterbury, I went out with my friends, I spent an hour in a club toilet having a heart-to-heart, and I laughed and talked about what had happened the night before. Just like old times. (Well, apart from the toilet thing, that is a unique thing which has never, and probably never will, happen again.) But also, and I don’t want to talk about specific people on here, but this was quite a major reason why I was so emotional- I made peace with someone in my life who was a major part of it, and with whom my relationship rapidly fell apart. That felt like a massive relief. And although I am still quite confused about that whole part of my life at the moment, with time, I know I will make sense of it...

I’m starting to realise that whatever happens in life, be it good or bad, eventually everything just becomes memories: part of the past, things that you can tell as anecdotes, or use as a warning of what to do in the future. I have a habit of building things up in my head, things that I think are gonna be very hard or that I just don’t want to do, and I picture them as “obstacles” that I have to get over that day or that week. Once I’m over that obstacle, I feel fine. But it’s the build-up of having to face that obstacle which gets me every time.

The most recent example is this: I was SURE that using the metro in Madrid to get to the airport was going to be THE WORST THING EVER. I was sure that I’d get to the first train station, and not be able to find any information, not know where to go, what to do, and I’d get the wrong trains and miss my plane. I don’t know if it’s because I think I am a moron (which I can be sometimes) or I think that the public bodies make these things as awkward as possible so no one can use them (because that would be so good for them, right?), but I was certain this was going to end badly. What happened? I got to the airport on time, with no problems whatsoever. I found the original train station, I bought my ticket, I found all the right platforms, and I got to the airport in quicker time than the website told me I would.

What is the point to my rambling? Well, I guess it’s that I’m beginning to learn that actually, these things are not that hard- you have to trust in yourself that you WILL be able to cope, that building things up is not worth it (ever), and even if it did go wrong? You can laugh about it later. It’s an EXPERIENCE.

That’s all that life is at the end of the day. It’s a book that every single day, you fill up of your habits, your actions, your thoughts, your feelings, your interactions with others- your EXPERIENCE. I don’t quite know what happens with your book when you kick the bucket, that’s a whole different blog post. But I do know, that this weekend has shown me an awful lot.

Even if it's only that I can find my way through Madrid’s Metro system and survive ;)