It’s been over a year since I’ve returned from a study abroad to Germany. Some days, I wake up and feel like I’m missing a large piece of myself, which is weird because I was only there for 6 months. I dream of backpacking and exploring Europe, but when I wake up to Laramie, my heart feels a little sad. Laramie is where I need to be right now, so I don’t stay sad about not being on an adventure. However, I still always want to be on an adventure. There’s just something special about packing a bag and going somewhere.
Whenever I go on even the smallest trip I get extremely excited. I’m one of those weird people who loves flying anywhere and everywhere. The whole being in a confined space with a few hundred people who carry germs and spread them thing doesn’t disgust me the way it does most people, and I’ve probably picked up germs more than once from traveling. Like I said, I’m just weird. I could be flying thirty minutes or ten hours, and I still feel a certain joy that I don’t get from many other experiences. I get a similar feeling when someone drives me around. It’s just so relaxing and comforting. No joke, when my sister was learning to drive, I’d have her drive me around to help me sleep and help her get hours. I just like going places (like the Toyota commercials).
I suffer from wanderlust. As it turns out, this condition is fairly common. The need to travel has become a part of me in a way that at this point I’d sell all my stuff just to see everything. Experiences are more valuable than things as it turns out.
I’m still figuring out how to cope with having to stay in one place for long periods of time. I like the feeling of coming home enough, but it’s also nice when “home” becomes a different place. Don’t get me wrong, I love being near my family and friends. I just feel that no matter where I go, I can always return to see them, so I might as well go!