I feel like I am constantly in a state of waiting. Spending the semester abroad in Madrid, one would think this is a time of doing. Being so far away has instead made me feel like I am in a place distant not only from physical home, but away from my internal self. It feels like I left my real life on hold back in the States, and I am just biding time until I get back to it.
This feeling does not by any means cause me to waste my time here. I am aware that I am lucky to have this opportunity—that getting lost and traveling is a gift many are not afforded. Exploring new and different worlds is a big part of who I am, but at the same time, I am sure of what I want my world to be. I spend this time more as a separation from that real life than as a continuation of it.
So I wait. I wait to take my final exams, pack my bags, and board the plane to return home. I wait to be reconnected with my family and with my friends. I wait to have my head and my heart and my soul reconnected. I wait for my life and for love and for peace.
Throughout all the anticipation, I realize that I really am not waiting as much as I martyr myself to be. In this society, it is impossible to put everything on pause. I wake up in the morning, eat my breakfast, and brush my teeth. I go to school and talk with classmates, laughing and enjoying my time there. I spend time by myself doing things I enjoy—reading or writing or drawing or running. I study for exams and complete homework assignments. I go out to bars, take trips to other cities, and meet locals. Basically, I enjoy my life here. I have fun.
How can I really be in a state of waiting? How selfish would it be to throw away whole days to lie around pining for a situation different than the one I am living? As much as I feel myself waiting and wanting for home, I know that this is my life; this is the world. The world does not wait for me to be in the physical place I want to be or in the mental state I am trying to achieve. The world spins madly on.