They say it takes double the time you were with someone to get over them. Does the same apply for a life-changing semester at Kasteel Well?

It makes me so sad to think that already three months has passed since I left Europe, since I left the dream that was a nightmare to wake up from. Every single day since my awaking, I have thought back on the 90.0 days I spent some might say “galavanting” (or as I would say, spending) my semester away. The truth is, I have come to discover, I miss it more than I knew I did, more than I possibly thought I could. 

I feel like I am on the rebound of a terrible heartbreaking relationship, and am now dealing with the repercussions that I threw aside. I feel alone, as if I don’t understand the shifting, changing world around me. I feel like my stories have turned into words that I don’t even believe belong together. I feel hopeless, as I don’t have any remaining evidence that I was away and doing far more courageous and glorious things than anyone here will ever give me credit for.

I long for my dreaded triple next to the neighbors who slammed their door and never left, our room with the big glass windows looking out over the moat and into the small village of nothingness. I want to slip on the freezing brick that gently hug the foundation of our 14th Century home because I wore the wrong shoes from my unforgiving wardrobe. I want to sit in the grass with friends and remember how much we liked each other, how glad we were to spend each waking minute together, meanwhile trying to capture every second with our unfortunate, non-photogenic memories. I want to stand on the bridge with Johnny and Rene, using “precis” after every other word and laughing endlessly about it. I want to come back from the weekend and have Dulcia ask of our 3-day adventures before we study ancient art with her ancient slides. I want to wake up too early and go to bed too late and know that it is okay because I am in Europe.

There are so many illnesses that I felt while I was abroad: homesick, lovesick, food sick, hangover sick, money sick, people sick, and other sicknesses I didn’t even know existed. I longed for the sun and for familiarity. Nowhere could I find solitude, but when I was alone I wanted company. Classes were a waste, yet I learned so much…about how I fit into the whole scheme of culture and art and music and ethics and what it’s like to live your own fantasy. I wish I had soaked in every terrible meal, every freezing limb, every Euro or Pound or Shekels spent, every aching muscle, every boring bus ride, and every minute of my occasionally-miserable-yet-unbelievably-incredible life that I will never get to experience again. 

The last day there was the worst day of my life. It makes me feel sick just thinking about it. I never wanted to leave that beautiful…everything, no matter how much I wanted to see my loved ones. Nothing was worse than leaving the place I had only lived for 90.0 days. The celebration, the drinking, the speech…it all gave me the worst migraine I have ever had in my life that was only slightly relieved by lighting up our last legal joint and spending the night on the floor with the friends I have adopted as my own.

I remember crossing the bridge with my minimal luggage and dramatically looking back one last time at that miraculous fortress. Sobbing, so much sobbing; we all knew there was no other way to leave. One last hug from The Duke, one final gut-wrenching hug from Dulcia, a squeeze of the hand from Aurelia to remind me life would somehow go on. It’s unfortunate that I can put myself back in that moment more than any other moment during my trip. Trauma sticks, I guess.

So here I am: stuck in a reality that is not solely mine to experience. It can be shared with the 84 other students, peers, world travelers that came and left with me. I could try to describe to friends and family what exactly it is that I’m feeling, but I could never put it into coherent words that would come across as anything but indecisive and ungrateful. I am hoping that someone will understand my feelings quietly, and that we will share something new together, except this time in our “Home Land”. 

I wish I could go back. I really do. I wish I could go and continue my fickle little life at the place that has brought me more emotions than I know what to do with. Kasteel Well, I truly miss you with every bit of my empty heart.