Come back to what you know.

So.
I don't really know where to begin.

I made the best decision of my life by coming to England.
But I will not be sad to go home.
And that, to me, was what this was all about.

I felt complacent, I felt bored and cheated by my life back home.
I thought that there was more out there for me, that I really wasn't living up to my potential(as much as I hate that phrase).
Which was true.
But it was all my own damn fault for failing to realize how good I had it.

Now I dream about burritos, nights spent on the beach, ethnic people, and root beer.
I even dream about the shit I thought I hated: blistering summer days, midterms, and cranberry juice.
point being: you can't find any of that stuff in England, and I miss it.

I am entirely lucky to have been able to come to Europe for a few months, kick it at my relatives' houses, travel all over the damn place, and hold a steady job that I actually like.
And it is so typical that it took me 5,000 miles distance to realize that I was happy right where I was.

But I really can't complain too much.
It's been bloody fantastic.