Six days ago, I came back to my home university campus. The last time I was there was seven months ago: it was still winter, and the trees were completely empty. Sitting on the grass was not a possibility, and I was probably wearing 3 layers of clothes. I was a different person seven months ago. I wasn’t sure how the new Sammy was going to react after everything I’ve been through (lots of things that I will tell later on, I guess).
Coming back to Santiago has been like waking up from a very lucid dream. Reality does not seem to match; you know things are familiar, but it doesn’t feel that way at all. Probably due to all the changes I’ve been through, the girl that left is not the same girl that came back, and so every single thing around me is perceived in a different way. Even felt in a different way. I can see myself constantly comparing the way I would’ve reacted before with the way I’m reacting now; what I would’ve felt before with what I feel now. This has a bittersweet taste: I love being capable of noticing my own changes and personal growth, but I also feel constantly disappointed by my reality, by things that used to be enough and that are not enough anymore, and will never be.
The process of waiting for my mind to come back has been stressing and scary. At the beginning I couldn’t understand why everything seemed so off, why I felt so off. My best friend said to me that sometimes when you travel your mind comes back later than your body. Maybe that is the reason why it took me time—a month, to be more precise. A month to accept that I was not traveling in Europe anymore, that I was not living in Glasgow with my friends, that I was no longer sharing moments with him. I still have troubles dealing with it. That probably won’t ever go away. But my mind is not playing tricks with me anymore, and is slowly coming to terms with everything that is around us.
Six days ago, I came back to campus, and instead of being struck by the terrible thought —and the feeling that comes with it— of “I’m not in Glasgow, this is not the University of Glasgow,” I felt incredibly good. Everything was there just as I remembered, except this time the trees were as green as they could be, the grass was completely dry, and I was wearing just one thin layer of clothes. My university campus was full of familiar things and memories, but in a different stage–just like me. And for the first time since I came back, I didn’t have that awful feeling of being in the wrong place. I think I felt at home. I know it won’t last —that this is going to be a constant seesaw—, but at least now I know that I can feel happy again in here. That the feeling of being miserable is not eternal; maybe it’s very strong, but not as long lasting as joy.
*listening to a weird mix of Mac Miller and other random stuff, but mainly Mac Miller*