As you may or may not have read earlier in the week, I felt an immediate urge to pack up and go home. I was dealing with a strange medical emergency alongside extreme tinges of homesickness and I almost felt as if there was no other viable option for me. As I laid awake for three nights in a row, downing pain medication and sobbing uncontrollably all while pitying myself and practically thinking of any way I could book he next flight I seemed to forget about where I am, about what I am doing, and about how this experience is going to change my life-for the better. I forgot how much is invested in this trip and my need to see it through is crucial. I realized while speaking with my coordinator about my fear that I would not be able to continue that I sounded absurd. "I know that I'm living alone in one of the greatest cities in the world but I really think I need to go back to little ol' Tionesta. There are just so many more opportunities for me there." Okay, so I obviously didn't use those exact words, but I might as well have. Am I nuts to even think about leaving? The answer is absolutely. You know what, no, I have never traveled outside of the United States and no, I am not overwhelmingly independent. When I'm at college I call my grandparents at least four times a day. But I am not a quitter and I am not a coward. I choose to do this not only to gain independence, not only to challenge myself academically, and not only gain experience but also to prove to myself and everyone else that I can and will do whatever I put my mind to. So what would that say about me if after two weeks I left? That would be a disgrace.
Last night I had the first good night's sleep I've had (thanks to some splendid white zinfandel) for over a week and it gave me the clarity I needed. Yes, my face is still swollen and yes, I still look like a fool but the pain has almost completely subsided. My judgement was no longer clouded and I could finally take into account what the people I love most had said to me when I let them in on my doubts. My family and my friends told me that they support whatever decision I were to choose but they know that I can endure this. But endure is such a gaudy word. You don't "endure" living in London. You enjoy it and that's what I'm going to enjoy every minute I get here because I don't get long. When it's all said and done, I'm sure I'll look back and wish that I had more time. More time to become closer to the wonderful people I have already begun to meet, to explore the places that I only ever thought I could explore in a dream. I am living a dream. Most people only wish to have an experience like this and it is such a shame that I even thought about letting it slip through the cracks.
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