Abroad

You may not know this, but there was a time when I spent a semester in Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland. I don't talk about it much because it seems like another time, another life - something that will always be a part of me, and in a way, define me. Anyone who has studied or spent any length of time abroad can attest to this. The life-changing moments, the things you learn, the ways you grow, and how you change-learn-grow, again, when you come home. 

Here's something else you didn't know: I miss it.

I miss it more than I thought possible, more than I could have imagined missing anything in my entire life. Somehow, it was the best and worst time I can recall. 

I spent six months in Scotland, several weekends in England, three days in Paris, four in Venice, and a week in La Spezia. Countless hours in trains, buses, subways, hostels. Hours I resented sometimes would would give a kidney to get back. Months I've recounted thousands of times in my mind.

If I wrote about it - if I could use my pictures and my memory and my words to show it to you - would you read it? Would you want to know?

I don't know how long it will take to do this. It doesn't worry me, either. There are other things in life to talk about, and this will be a smattering of tales among other life stories. I hope you'll come back and hear my stories, and hope even more that the telling of them makes it easier.