So this is what it feels like to be alone again

(Written 17.01.10)

Four days ago, my life suddenly got a lot quieter. And as much as I try to welcome the silence that I used to find comforting and peaceful, now it just feels like a void--and a gapping one at that. I forgot what it was like to be surrounded by the people you love, and those who (fortunately) love you back. And now that they're gone, everything seems less thrilling, less exciting, less colorful. I don't mean to be a downer, but for the first time I'm here to admit that I miss home. Home as in the States. As in my family and my friends and all those little things that Switzerland just doesn't offer.

I think back to when I first got here. Sitting on the train to Montreux from Geneva, listening to Pete Yorn and watching as the light faded into the dark behind the mountains. I was so excited. Everything and everyone ahead of me was new and that feeling of uncertainty filled my stomach with a myriad of multi-colored butterflies. Yes, I was nervous, but the best kind of nervous when you know that everything you think you know about yourself is going to change. And as much as you try to prepare yourself for what's ahead, all you can really do is take a deep breath, trust yourself, and dive in with everything you've got.

And that's what I did. Of course, I had my moments of near drowning in a language that seemed so foreign to me when I first arrived, but I eventually found my words and the confidence I needed to keep myself sane and happy. And it really wasn't until December that I felt something missing in the life I'd been living here. Maybe it was the Christmas market curse . . . Seeing all those families walking hand in hand and groups of obnoxiously loud teenagers up to who know's what and couples that are so cute that it takes every bit of self restraint not to just push them into the lake. And then there was me and my faithful Nikon, weaving through it all and trying not to think about the things I missed from a holiday season at home. But still, knowing that Car and Shan would be here so soon distracted me from any of the homesickness I may have started to feel.

However, now that the girls are gone, the loneliness has finally found an opening and snuck its way in. I'm just scared of how long it's here to stay. I want to be motivated. I want to go out and do things. I want to keep discovering. But--like I used to say as a teary-eyed, overly sensitive little girl--it's just not the same. And to be honest, I don't want it to be. If anything, I know now more than ever that being close to the people I care most about is what makes me the happiest. And it has nothing to do with feeling comfortable or safe or secure, though these things may matter more to other people. Instead, it's knowing that I'm the best version of myself when I'm with them. It's knowing that even life's most ordinary and mundane tasks--like going to the bank or grocery store--become another adventure when you're together. And it's the laughter. The constant, genuine, bottomless laughter that seems to put everything back into perspective again.

Yesterday, in hopes of further distracting myself from the rain and my own self pity, I watched the latest corny, teenage drama titled "Post Grad." You know, the kind of movie that usually ends with some sentimental voice-over about the power of love and friendship and whatever else it is that teens find so inspiring. Well, if you didn't already know, sometimes I'm a sucker for corniness. And of course in my current state of mind, the single defining line of the movie, said by one gorgeous Brazilian man, totally got to me. He says,

"I guess I finally realized that what you do with your life really is only one half of the equation. The other half, the more important half really, is who you're with when you're doing it."

I didn't even try to hold back the tears. It would have been a lost cause. I've struggled so much with this idea of distance, of being so far away from my loved ones. But really, what's the point? I know certain circumstances require moves and you can't always be next door to the people you love, but if you can be closer, if you can make it happen, what's there to stop you?

I know that I needed this. I needed this time away to see myself clearly and to reevaluate the things that are most important to me right now. Maybe it is time for me to close this chapter of the Swiss adventure and start a new one back in the States. Maybe these stupid German papers that I've been waiting for are a sign that it's time for me to dive in all over again, to keep this unknown adventure as thrilling and exciting and uncertain as it was when I started it over six months ago. To surprise myself yet again, because that's what makes life interesting, that's what makes me feel alive. I might not be closer to knowing where I'll end up or what I'll be doing there, but I have I feeling I know who will be close by. And for now, that's good enough for me.