The day of the cruise was subconsciously written in my mental calendar as the first day of the end of my “Surreal Summer Journey” in Spain. As we choo-chooed away from Madrid (the place that has grown to become the only place I feel right calling “home”), this little reminder alarm went off in my mind as I began journaling, which triggered a chain reaction that ended in my eyes filling with tears and my nose with goop.
That's right – I was that one cool girl on the train looking like a Hot Mess with her greasy hair, glasses, short-shorts and... a fresh pool of tears and snot collecting around the corners of her face. >_< Classy.
I've been surprisingly zen this whole time, but for just an hour or two, the Enlightenment setting shut off and I was left with the truth in front of me that at some point I'm going to have to leave Spain and my family and school and – worst of all – L. And this is where the “losing my shit” began:
First, I put a song on repeat and sang over and over and over:
“I've got a tight grip on reality
but I can't let go of what's in front of me here.
I know you're leaving in the morning
when you wake up;
leave me with some kind of proof
it's not a dream.”
Next, I started journaling. I wrote about the first night when she took me to the highest hill overlooking the lights of Madrid late at night, looked at me with a smirk trying to mask her anxiety and said, “So you get all this AND a summer fling, too, hey?”
Muffin.
I wanted to bop her on the nose and scream and shout that I could never be a “fling” girl and not to underestimate me, but instead I remained silent and squeezed her, smiling and taking what she'd said as a challenge.
And then I wrote the sentence that sent me over the edge and made the flood gates open:
“... if after all this she ever dared use that word to describe it, I would cry and run away more hurt than I could possibly explain in words.”
Cue Grandma looking at me full of concern and hunting in her purse for a fresh pack of mini kleenexes and handing them to me telling me, “Just keep the whole pack.” Ha.
I know I came here on official business; I came to immerse myself in Spanish, to finish up my degree, to learn about Spanish art and literature and business, to enrich my cultural knowledge, etc. etc. etc. But let's be real: In my world I'm dedicated to traveling all over and learning foreign languages and immersing myself in new cultures with the one tiny hope of spreading sanguinity and love and gaining a little bit of growth the process. And the thought that I could have failed in my sole life mission on this journey made me so upset.
L has single-handedly made the past few months everything that they were; she walked me ALL over Madrid, showed me things my own host family had never heard of, let me practically become a half-time resident of Torrejon, make me all sorts of strange (but, yes, yummy) meals, help me study whenever I had a big test, just laze around and be a cabbage with me and most of all made me feel great about being who I am. Had I not met her, I'm sure a part of me would be saying, “Okaaaay – when do we get to go back to America? It's been great, but I'm ready for a little CPK, Moxie time, West Coast Swing – anything and everything that I love!” But instead I'm sitting on a cruise ship taking an hour to blog about everything I've been feeling and having very limited desire to see my country again for awhile if it means I can't see her for a year.
Don't think I'm complaining though – feeling upset to leave is way better than feeling eager to leave – it means I've succeeded. ;)
Even though she's always saying little things to make me doubt myself, they make me much more sure of who I am. She and her seemingly serendipitous presence in my life have taught more than I even realize. And because of that, I'm happy here. I'm happy with who I am here. And so I can feel it's coming – that I have to leave for awhile because I learned what I was supposed to and have to go apply it before I can come back here. I'm okay with that. I welcome challenge. But this is a big one. How can I take what I've learned here and take it backwards into my past? Is that even possible?
I've begun to understand the virtue of letting go and accepting that the only life you need any amount of control over is your own – others have their own path and have come to this little earth equipped for exactly what they needed for their journey and only by being there and supporting that crazy little journey can you come close to guaranteeing your place in their world. Controlling others to keep them close is counter-intuitive; control only acts as a self-defeating defense mechanism that only pushes others away. I would do this all the time, not understanding – I mean, I knew this on some level, but never internalized it. I hope the new perspective I got on it all stays with me, because boy am I going to need it.
I've also begun to understand that by automatically assuming 98% of people are pre-programed to dislike me, I act unlikeable from the get-go. At the beginning of the summer, I still had a little bit of Hooters Girl in me, so things weren't quite as bad – but as the summer went on and Hooters Girl me faded, I reverted back to this default thought-process. I'm not entirely sure how to change this – the logic is so circular that I'm not sure where to break the chain!
At some point I'm going to find myself in Denver and I'm going to be in Moxie on my way to my Ledge and I'm going to say to myself, “Well, now what, Chels?”
Let's not be fake here – I'm not too fearful of this huge Unknown placed in front of me as of Aug. 19th. In fact, I'm pretty confident that it will be a whirlwind of a few weeks in which I find a new “home,” a new job, new friends and another new “life.” Conor's been leaving me enough pennies in funny places for me to know this. What I am fearful of is: What can I possibly do to make my next “life” as amazing as this one? Will I be able to keep parts of this one in my next one? What's the point of being a world traveler if you have to leave everybody you've grown to adore behind and start over each time practically from scratch? Does this have to be the case?
Sometimes feeling a little sad and scared makes me feel like I'm going in the right direction but that I'm allowed a break from all the crazy optimism to re-center myself. If I never felt sad nor scared, I wouldn't feel as grateful and happy as I often do. Cruises are to recharge yourself and I definitely need a hot minute to recharge! Phew – great timing.
*(cover later)*
Pick up G and S
Crazy train ride
Barcelona
Cruise Ship
Explore - food
Alone time
Arcade/basketball
Dinner
Hottub
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