The mixed feelings of coming home

When I woke up this morning, it took me a minute to realize that I was home. But when I did, it finally hit me that I am home and that I am so happy to be home. I never realized that I missed the sunlight streaming through my windows, the quiet sound of cars and the quiet tickings that goes on in my apartment. The softness of the light, the familiarity of the space, everything that I took for granted. It is with delight to open my closet and discover my things. It is like finding memories again. I have so much clothes!

Certainly, there is a certain amount of fear of coming back home, as I have also gone through this process many times. Readjusting back to a life that I walked away for a month. Realizing new perspectives on things that I took for granted (like my own apartment). Constantly wanting to share my own excitement about my trip yet unable for relate to others the wonders that I have seen. Finding out that my friends have moved on with their lives and knowing that I was not part of that for a whole month. These are all part of the reverse cultural shock aspect. I was actually dreading it all for the past two days, but the overwhelming happiness that I experienced this morning will keep me going in spite of it all. I won't forget that moment when I opened my eyes and saw the sun, the sound of cars in the distance and the happy faces of my stuffed animals.