Going Home After 3 Months
Sitting in the hostel room in New York on my last night, I’m feeling a lot of emotions. I’m overwhelmed with all of this, the 3 months which have just passed me by in a blur! Somewhere along the way, I had the best time of my life, I met some amazing people in particular you, had some amazing experiences and so much more. But being in this crazy city my last stop, the only thought going through my head when we drove across the Lincoln tunnel was, ‘I Made It’ through all the craziness, the illness, the hellos and goodbyes, the 2 months of camp and 1 month of travels this is where it comes to an end. Out of all the places to end I had travelled to New York, the most famous, most iconic, most ‘American’. As much as I knew what to expect I don’t think I was quite prepared for it. I was so excited to get here, and then there was the disappointment of the hostel, then I was up and ready to see the city on the first day, only to tick everything but 3 things off the list in a day. How could I see the whole of this crazy city in one day? I must be missing something…central park and 5th avenue completed my list the next morning, and that’s when this sinking feeling hit. This really is the end, I’m not going to get on another greyhound bus and explore somewhere else, this is the last stop I had time to take it slow, but I had gotten so used to seeing a city in a day that I did the same here. Sitting in Times Square this afternoon, watching the world go by, sitting in my hostel room last night listening to the world go by, no matter where in New York you are, you know you are here. The sound of taxi horns, police sirens, traffic and noise this is the city that never sleeps after all. And so sitting here on my last night, thinking about the last 3 months, I think how far as a person I have developed, the amazing friendships I have made, the unforgettable children I have met, the natural wonders of this country I have seen, the driving I have done, how everything that has been done in the last 3 months I have somehow managed to do right. But now it’s over, and although I have no regrets I can’t help but wish it was only just starting again, not so I could redo the bits I did wrong, but so I could live it over again, exactly as it happened. There’s a small part of me that’s excited about going home, my stomach is like a gather of butterflies, having to wait all day tomorrow before I board the plane and then another 8 hours till I land. It’s not like I even get to see you I have to wait another week for that, but there’s the people I left behind who care when I’m back I have to see. The thought of going back to real life is the one thing that scares me the most, I’ve lived in the camp bubble for 2 months and then the travel bubble for 1 month that I feel like when I get off that plane on Tuesday morning everything is suddenly going to come crashing to a halt. I don’t want this to end, because I don’t want to have to go back, so much has happened there, and I don’t want to have to be faced with it all again, people I left behind and have not spoken to for 3 months will suddenly be in my face again, there’s not any part of me that’s ready to land Tuesday morning except for getting to see a few faces I’ve missed. I feel sick.