The last end.

I know, this is the third post entitled "the end." But this time, it really is, I'm going home.

I've found this trip to be landmarked by alternating feelings of uncontrollable homesickness and never wanting to go home. They sound like opposite extremes, and they are. Although through every adventure and every country, I found that the more I explored, the less I wanted to leave. No two places were remotely similar, yet they were all equally different from home in their own ways. I know this sounds cheesy and cliche, but it's 100% true. Having been a newcomer to Europe, my eyes have been opened to the fact that, well, there are other places in the world. And while Europe is probably most similar to the States compared to other continents, I've loved every minute of every place. I love being so completely lost, without a language and without a map, I love being stranded in an airport waiting for EasyJet's token 5 hour delays, I love going from 3 feet of snow in Switzerland in February to 75 degree sunshine in Spain the same weekend, I love the comfort of feeling, well, comforted, by a road sign in English (and Gaelic) when I haven't seen English in a month straight, I love crazy, irrational, lunatic home-stay families and home-stay families that get so much joy out of my stupid love for apples and coffee.

I love to travel. And I think if I had to pick one thing to change about these past 6 months, I wouldn't. Sitting in the madness of Heathrow, sure, I'm excited to come back, to see friends and family, but there's something different and something that I'll miss about these people here that I've spent literally all day, every day with for so long. I'm sad, even angry to be leaving. Angry because I've found things here, whether in Bosnia or England, to be so much more logical in so many ways than the US. And angry that now I know this and have to leave it.

But it's ok, because I know that I will be glad to be home, and that one day, not too long from now, I'll be back.