It took a while to really have time to reflect on the months in France. There is so much to process and sift through. The final week of being in France blew by, between all the work that was assigned to us and all the exams we had, I was a ball of stress. My sister came just to help me move back, and it was an absolute mess, finding her a place to stay and managing the food everyday. I was completely ready to go home. I had a flight Friday night and it was nearly impossible to get out of the city, it was a complete nightmare. The taxis are always on some kind of strike, the train was late, everything that could have happened, happened. I was literally writing papers until I boarded the flight- and not because of procrastination but because there was no time through out any of it. But that was just the journey back; the leaving was actually harder than I thought. I didn’t go into it thinking I would get anything out of it, mostly because I didn’t know what to expect. But looking at it now, I got more out of it than my subconscious expected. I think that I grew into a more tolerant person, things that I never would have been able to stand are now acceptable to me in a more passive way. I learned so much about my area of study from a professor that became more of a mentor to me. And most importantly I became very close with one of my roommates. I was very distressed to be leaving what I had built into my “life” out there. It wasn’t perfect all the time, and I really did want to be back in Orlando, but it was MY life. The life that I built so that I could be happy somewhere other than for here at home. I don’t think I’ll miss the place itself, or things about the place; but I will miss my moments, and my days there. Those you can’t recreate.
