What I want

It has been 54 days.

54 days of pain and laughter. Love, loss, searching, yearning—but I’m ready to go home.

The Camino de Santiago gave me all of it, every raw feeling imaginable. It was dusty and sun-drunk that I found true love. Thirteen days with Hattie from Colorado and I had a future roommate. Three days less than that with Hannah from North Carolina, and I had a best friend. Four days with Daniel from Germany and I let my guard down. 27 days, 438 miles and 1,023,053 steps...and I found myself.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more full of life than I did on the Camino.

But the Camino ended.

And then I came here.

Valencia was anything a wanderlusting 21-year-old could have imagined. An undying nightlife, 2100 years of stories, food, drink, possibilities. The culture was breathtaking and the locals even more-so. I pictured an exhilarating life here.

But here’s the thing: I was spoiled. Ever since the Camino I have been riding the high of the magic I felt there, and I wanted more of it. I wanted to share it. Unfortunately, I was faced with too many people who were sealed shut. It may not have been that they didn’t want the magic, or maybe they were just scared to feel it—but I felt my light draining.

My writing with Professor Kofford and coffee shop adventures with Miranda, Jana and Lauren were a window into what a life in Spain could be for me. I can see myself living here full-time. I just can’t see this kind of life full-time.

It’s nobody’s fault, or maybe it’s mine; but nevertheless, I know now what I want.

I want to stay up until 2 a.m. drinking wine with complete strangers, laughing until our abs hurt. I want to hug someone with so much love in my heart that I almost can’t let go. I want to dance in the forest to music I don’t know the words to with someone I’ve only just met but have known forever. I want to cry because I’m feeling too much all at once.

I want the Camino back.

But that’s not going to happen, and that’s how I know what I need.

It’s not about where you’re living. It’s about how you’re living. The Camino taught me that, and it’s this reason that I need to go home.

Going abroad isn’t supposed to make you want a different life, it’s supposed to make you want to live yours better.

I know that now, and I’ve never been more excited to keep living mine.

Wherever I am in the world.