Hi sweet friend of mine,

It has been quite some time since I’ve seen your lovely face. A whole semester has passed, and a lot of life has been lived. The past several months is the first time I have come to truly understand the forebodings people rant about on enduring a “long distance relationship.”

This semester you have seen, experienced and indulged in things I truly will never be able to fully grasp. Your immersion and ability to submerge yourself within a foreign culture abroad dissimilar to your very own is truly enviable.

I understand home may not feel like home when you return. You may feel shock as the distance between where your roots have recently grown into are now uprooted and transported back to your old American soil. I hope that in this transition you are not lost, and feel no sense of heartbreak.

Yet, the truth is, I expect a big piece of your heart to be left behind in the care of those who housed, lived and adventured with you. The period that it takes to acclimate to a seemingly ancient lifestyle will take some time, and you may not ever feel like you are fully at peace with home as you used to view it.

My dear girl, do not fret. You have changed and grown. Your heart has been opened to new people and ideas; it has lurched over language barriers and beat on as fears were conquered. It has remained steady through its homesickness and grown stronger as the idea of home quickly had meaning in yet another place.

You are returning to the people who have lived their normal lives you bore witness to prior to this grand escapade. They have missed you, as have I.

I can only imagine the pride within their eyes mimics that in mine. You have taken this opportunity by the horns, and I have no doubt that when you come home the first thing you will say to me is, “When can I go back?”

Adventuring is now in your blood, sweet girl. It has injected itself and, like a benevolent poison, will continue to flow throughout the pulsing streamlines within you. You will be forever grateful for this introduction to another world beyond that of the one you have spent your first 20 years living. It has woken you to this feeling. That the possibility of travel is an endless feat filled with adventures completely unique to each place you encounter.

Selfishly, I miss the light you bring to life. This semester has taught me a lot without the comfort of knowing you're only a state or two away.

I have awoken to what it could mean to love again. Yes, boys included, but also to love the things I'm good at as well. I recognized my commitment to people, projects, school. I recognized I despise letting people down and think holding back feelings or radical impulsive pursuits is sillier than the people telling you not to pursue them.

I wish I could tell you, really, what I mean. I wish you could tell me everything, if I could only jump inside your mind for a moment, what a blessing that would be. However, friend, that is simply not possible—not yet.

Instead, I propose this. I propose you talk my ear off with all the memories, jokes, thoughts that flood your mind and I shall do the same. And once hours, days, weeks, however long have passed and we have said our fill, we allow for silence. We will permit our minds to recognize this time apart as our own, to have and to hold, to keep alive however we so wish.

I may not ever know fully what you mean when you talk about the little children you were selflessly teaching how to write, or know how much love your heart holds for your host family, and I may never meet your friends that became more than friends – soulmates rather. Yet I will be elated that these memories will be guarded and cherished by your heart from every day on.

And shall you keep those memories, secrets, jokes, experiences alive? When you are ready, your home will be calling you back and your return will be magnificent.

Love,

The One That Missed You Most