If you ask a good majority of people which country is on their bucket list, Italy will be on there, with good reason. It's an amazing country filled with good-looking people, admirable values, and lots of food and wine. I've been obsessed with the country ever since my mother married my stepfather when I was thirteen. He was born and raised in Calabria, Italy, and from pictures I saw, I knew one day I would be there. And in 2015, I was finally able to go. I left college, worked full time at my cashier job, and bought my own ticket. And let me tell you, it did not disappoint.

My time in Italy was not one hundred percent happiness and fun. I went because I was in love with someone there, and he would later come to break my heart. But I digress. That did not take away from the absolute beauty of the country. I was blessed that I did not have to pay for a hotel because I have family there.

My first few days I spent in Florence, and I believe this was my favorite city. I'm an art and museum lover, and this is quite literally what Florence is famous for. And the house I stayed in? Literally, it seemed like it was on top of the world, on a huge hill surrounded by trees. The houses in Italy are so much more simple than ours, but in my opinion so much prettier. It seems like they all have big doors, that when you open them lead you to a large balcony. Fresh air is pretty important to the Italian people, I would imagine.

Every morning I woke up to beautiful sunshine, breakfast being Nutella on bread and a glass of warm milk. And it seemed like every day was a new adventure. After leaving Florence, I went to Pisa, and of course, there was one building that was leaning to the side. I tried to take that typical touristy picture of me holding it up, but I couldn't quite get it down.

Venice was everything you would imagine it to be. A city on water. I didn't get to ride a gondola, but I did buy an authentic masquerade mask that was handmade by a resident of Venice. It is so beautiful and hangs in my kitchen to this day. I took off my shoes and dangled my feet in the water in my body hugging spring dress, feeling like life couldn't get any better, as I watched what seemed like hundreds of boats go by.

Verona was romantic, because hello, Romeo and Juliet! I visited Casa di Giulietta, which literally means the house of Juliet. I kissed someone I loved on the same balcony where Romeo confessed his love to Juliet in Shakespeare's famous love story. One day, I really want to kiss my husband on that same balcony.

The majority of my time I stayed in Milan, or more specifically, Pogliano Milanese. That is where my stepbrother lives. I know Milan is known as one of the major fashion capitals of the world, but I found the city part rather boring. Mostly because I couldn't buy anything. I bought gelato instead, like every day. No, I loved the "country" part, where I stayed for two weeks. Where I biked with my new friends, walked to a market and bought cheese, and drank almost every night. I did this where getting carded is considered a joke. Many times, I ventured off alone, because I never felt I would get lost. I felt like I would know my way home.

Because I already felt at home. Going to Italy didn't feel like a vacation to me, it felt like I hadn't been home in a long time, and I had finally returned. Maybe that's why I can't remember every detail of the cities everyone dies to see, but I can remember eating lunch with my family every day, and mopping the floor because it was a cleaning day. I remember frying melanzana, and eating mozzarella cheese and bread with every meal.

Certain things about Italy were very different from America, that reminded me of where I was. Eating nearly every meal together as a family was one, and every person I met being so kind to me and acting like they had known me forever was another. Even random people in the street! When I went to the market or another store, or even out for a stroll, I didn't feel a certain heaviness that I feel here. I felt happy, and it seemed everyone else was too. Life wasn't all about paying the next bill or hoping to win the lottery so your life drastically would improve. It was about going out with your friends, but still making it home for lunch. It was about family. And sometimes, it was simply about buying fresh ingredients for that night's dinner. In Italy, the things that matter come first. And believe me, that was even more intoxicating than the wine.

I've fallen in love with a couple Italian men, but my husband is the one I never want to let go of. He holds all of the Italian ideals that I've been in love with my whole life. Family is so incredibly important to him. He calls me Vi, which is short for vita, meaning life. And he knows how to cook. What more could I ask for? I can't wait to return to Italy with him, and with my daughter, who has Italian blood in her veins. I can't wait to meet my suocero and suocera, and thank them for my husband's existence. I can't wait to go home again. One day, I hope to go back for good.

I highly encourage anyone reading this to go and see what I mean for yourself. It's an experience that will change you, and it will stay with you forever. But please, easy on the vino.