Homesick.

Hi.

Funny sitting before the computer again and looking at a blank screen awaiting words.

This is sort of an update post, but more about my experiences with homesickness.

Since I arrived in Germany, I did not feel homesick once until just recently. I always said “Germany has always been my second home.” “Yeah, I miss my friends and family, but I love it here.” “I’ve toughed it out before, I can do it again.”

Well friends, here I am at the end of my toughing it out. Or should I really say the beginning.

I really didn’t miss home until now. The honeymoon stage of coming to Germany, being with my love again, beginning work, getting legally married, moving into a new apartment, the holidays and all of the other stuff are passed now. I sit here in my routine of a life– don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my life here!– and still feel like a piece of my heart is missing.

Being away from friends and family is hard enough with the “out of sight out of mind” concept. I was fine not hearing from people in the States often, because I had enough going on here to keep me occupied. But, those lack of conversations have added up and people are missing from me. Yes, long distance relationship/friendships are a two way street. I could have messaged people more often. Which is what I am trying to do now.

Something I have found to be interesting about my homesickness, is that when it hits, it hits. Someone could ask me what I want to do and the only things that pop up in my head are restaurants or places where I used to sit and read. And every place here in Germany that we could go to just wouldn’t suffice.

Homesickness for me is also closely tied to nostalgia and memories.

I miss home.

I miss Oregon and it’s chlorine water that costs nothing at restaurants.

I miss friendly strangers in supermarkets who allow me to go ahead of them in line because I only have a few items.

I miss sitting in my backyard in the springtime when I was younger on a Sunday afternoon seeing the cherry tree blossom it’s beautiful white flowers and doing cartwheels as I hear airplanes in the sky.

This memory leads me to wanting to go play golf with my dad at Langdon Farms and then eating chicken strips afterwards.

I miss going to Oswego Grill for happy hour. Or going to every McMenamins I could find.

I miss spontaneously driving around because I didn’t want to sit at home and no one was available so I would drive around and eventually end up at Target.

I miss cuddling with my dog Max and watching Gossip Girl on a Monday afternoon and slowly drifting into a little nap that would last until my Dad got home in the evening.

I miss my parents.

I miss my friends.

I miss my house.

I miss all of these things. And I am still trying to figure out what role this hole in my heart is turning me into. I know I am exactly where I need to be and that I do not regret the choices that got me to where I am now. I love my home and wish everyone could see it and experience this life with me.

But sometimes, it’s okay to miss home. Home is what got me here. I hope home misses me, too.

Until next time,

Sara ❤