The past couple days have been tough. Lonely and tough. I came back to America fully content and with every intent of not being as social as before. In turn, I have been here for almost three months, with barely any communication with anyone other than my husband and my close family. What have I been doing, you maybe asking… Well, trying to adjust, learning to cook some amazing meals and learning a whole lot from this amazing Grad program. With this program comes with a lot of discussions about art and memories of my life in Germany.
I miss my tribe. I miss traveling. I miss learning new facts about old places, I miss trying new foods, and meet new people, but more than anything I miss Amsterdam (or the ability to be there within a few hours of train travel). I believe the universe knows that I miss Amsterdam, because without seeking it, the city will find me. I’ll log on to class and we talk about Dutch painters, I look for recipes and Amsterdam pictures invade my Pinterest, I turn the channel on my television and reality stars are going to the Dam or star crossed lovers, Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters are roaming around in front of beautiful landmarks like the Rijksmuseum in “The Fault In Our Stars”. (And morbidly enough, I was so happy to see this was on…I know I have a problem).
I have finally realized why I love it so much, and it’s because I have the most amazing memories there. With Jaime, without Jaime, with my friends, with strangers, with Van Gogh, while I drink, dance, eat, laugh, cry, walk, or take the tram, I find myself enjoying the city and loving it how others love their hometown. Amsterdam and I are involved. We are smaller than average, full of spirit and extremely intricated. The city both comforts and haunts me. Probably because it, like me, it knows I belong there. It haunts me because I fear that I will never see it again.