it has been almost a year since i took off from JFK to Madrid. shy of a week.
i think about this trip, no joke, every day. it’s like i ache for it. i ache to go back so bad. there was just something that resonated with me so much on this adventure. something that sank deep down. i can’t quite figure out why.
truthfully, there is a part of me that feels like i went on this trip alone, even though i didn’t. i think i was living in my own head. some of my favorite moments were with my headphones on, sitting on the train in-between cities in italy, just thinking about the people that lived there, what their lives were like, and how come i couldn’t live there. america seemed sooo enormously big while i was traveling and made home seem a little overwhelming and not so…
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