When all that you’ve known will soon be a distant memory
Reading this blog entry probably isn’t part of your daily routine. Every day we take part in things that are not necessarily planned or typical for us. At the same time, most of us follow some kind of regimen, some being more defined than others. You could say that mine falls at the “very defined” end of the spectrum. I have never moved houses. I eat the same thing for breakfast every day without fail. I end each night with a journal entry of what happened to me that day. I exercise around the same time every morning. Of course, there have been subtle changes to my routine over the course of my life, but none so drastic or even perceptible as to cause anxiety.
And now here I am, ten days before I board a plane to another continent, having never been out of United States. Ten days until I will no longer be able to use the only language I can fully express myself in. Ten days until I must give up the total self-reliance I have taken for granted. Ten days until my life no longer revolves around the clock like it does now.
But it doesn’t end there.
Upon returning from study abroad, my time in college will be over; work will replace homework. I will not be a teenager anymore; “real life” will replace childhood. I will be moving across the country; flat land and snow will replace hills and trees. For me, this trip and what comes after it are inevitably tied together—both mark a new chapter in my life, something scary and thrilling all at once.
I don’t want to let go of all that I’ve known for the past 19 years, yet I know it’s the best thing for me. Sure, living in Rosario will change my routine so completely as to be unrecognizable, but maybe I’ll come to embrace that. Maybe change will become my new normal.