After four months of living in the UK, I somehow made my way back home. However, after four months, I have also left home. It doesn’t seem like a long time, in the grand scheme of life, but the time I spent in the UK was enough to make myself truly feel at home and now it feels as if the rug has been pulled from under me.
The last couple of weeks that I spent in Bournemouth almost seem like a fever dream. Literally, because I had caught a bad case of the flu and I went from barely being able to get out of bed, to feeling well enough to do some last-minute partying, to nearly passing out in the library again. On top of this, all my university assignments were due in the last two weeks of my exchange so I had to drag myself to the library every day to finish them on time. Because I was so wrapped up in sorting everything out, packing all of my belongings and finishing my assignments, while shivering through each day from illness, I think I let those final days pass by without realizing that my exchange was coming to an end. It’s kind of sad to think that I wasn’t fully present during those last days, but maybe it was for the best as I probably would have been an emotional mess otherwise.
After we left Bournemouth, I first took a short solo trip to Edinburgh where I spent two days simply walking around the city to admire its beautiful scenery and browsing the bookshops. Then, I met up with my friend (my trusty travel companion) again in Dublin where we spent another two days exploring the lively city, before heading back to the Netherlands. I’m glad we took the opportunity to travel a bit more after we had to leave Bournemouth, because I think it made going home feel slightly less drastic, and it was simply fun to do.
Now, I’m back, although I think that part of me is still in the UK. It’s a weird sensation, having spent months abroad only to return to a place where everything is exactly the same as it was before I left. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything different here, which I suppose is sort of comforting in a way. However, it makes the time I was away seem that much more unreal. It’s like I blinked and the past four months have slipped through my fingers so quickly I barely even noticed.
I will say that it’s nice to be home. But that’s just it, it’s simply nice. After the excitement of a study exchange, coming home is kind of like falling into a pit that’s difficult to climb out of. Everything feels sort of stagnant, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Only a few days after my return I took a trip to the hairdresser and had the majority of my hair chopped off. Well, maybe not the majority but a large chunk at least. I felt in desperate need of a change, and I couldn’t think of a more convenient way to achieve it than to rid myself of the weight hanging down my back that had already been bugging me for quite a while. And thus, with a newfound lightness, life continues.
Obviously, I would love to go back to the UK, hopefully sooner rather than later, but I’m not exactly sure when that will be. My priority right now is to make sure I graduate this year (yikes!), and soak up my last months as a student before I’m forced to live in the real world. Can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I don’t possess the power to pause life, unfortunately.
If my time abroad has taught me anything, it’s that moving to a different country, even if it’s only temporary, is an invaluable life experience and I will do whatever I need to do to have that opportunity again. Also, time really does fly, as cliché as it might sound, and I continuously remind myself to be present in all that I’m doing to ensure that I can relive memories without any regrets.
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