So I've been back from the motherland for months now. Still feels weird. Like I still call them "galoshes." And I unintentionally walk on the left side of the sidewalk. And I lust for curry like nobody's business.
There are really strange moments sometimes. I miss the obvious things--like I would give anything to be back in London right now. But it's the stupid little things that really get me. I was leaving work a few weeks ago and had the sudden intense memory of walking up the ramp in the Merrion Centre to go grocery shopping at Morrisons. It was like this pit in my stomach, and I almost broke down and sobbed at the bus stop.
I still miss those idiotic things that probably shouldn't register: going to the station and taking the National Express coach, walking up to the counter and asking for a "white tea to take away." One pound coins. I miss those buggers.
So, boo. I'm incredibly glad I studied abroad--for the people I met, the places I saw, the experiences I had. But in some ways I wish I had never gone, because now I know what I'm missing. What if I never get to live in England again? Then I'll just have this dull ache forever.
Well, you know what they say. Better to have lived in England and had to leave than never to have lived there at all, right?
p.s. I know this all makes me sound like a privileged, whiny little bitch. I'm not usually like that.
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