Springtime has well and truly arrived in Seville. And in true British style, it has poured with rain solidly for several days now...wait, isn't this sunny, sunny Spain? What's going on?
But with it, April brings the beautiful realisation that I only have two months left. Yes, two months. And if you take off my ten day Easter holiday back in Norwich beginning next Thursday, the time is disappearing rapidly.
I always feel horrendously guilty saying this, but I really can't wait to go home. I feel like I have been given this amazing opportunity to live abroad (again), and though I do appreciate that, this year has been such a hard, long slog, that now just wish it was over.
Don't get me wrong, Seville is a wonderful place, and if you haven't been, I highly recommend that you visit. The weather (on the most part) is great, the architecture stunning, and the culture and atmosphere is just incredible. Living here is not a struggle for me: it is a perfect city in so many respects, but sometimes you just forget to appreciate the little things when living somewhere. I am trying: cycling through the centre in the sunshine, sunglasses on, the scent of azahar (orange blossom) lingering in the air - it really is a wonderful moment, and I love every second. But with weather like this (aka gross and cold and rainy) just isn't condusive to do anything apart from staying in with hot chocolate.
Referring to a recent post about lonelieness, my situation doesn't really feel like it's improving. Last week, I had Josh staying with me, and I just felt so relaxed and comfortable - it was perfect. But now he's gone, it's hit me harder than it ever has before. Yes, when he has left before, I'd missed him, but nothing like this. This feels so deep and so miserable that I want to cry and throw up at the same time. And before you begin feeling too sorry for me, just remember that I am going home next Thursday! Pull yourself together Hannah!
Just saying it makes me sound - and feel - really pathetic, but I really do feel homesick at the moment. When I see friends out here, my going home regularly this semester makes me feel like in someway I'm not doing this year properly (I had this exact conversation with a friend yesterday, who felt just the same that I did), but no one ever said that it was a year completely cold turkey away from home. So what if I'm more of a home bunny than I thought? I've spent the last year living with my favourite person in the world, and to have all that take away really sucks, and is unbelievably hard.
All this being said, I made a big decision this weekend. Initially, I had decided to stay until the end of the school's term - the end of June, in order to nicely round off their year and so that my brothers could visit at the beginning of July. But now, I honestly don't think I can stay that long and have a shred of sanity left. I am only obliged to stay until the end of the university term out here, which is the end of May, which would mean that in theory, I could be writing a blog post from the comfort of my own flat this time in exactly two months. Extraordinary. But that is what I'm going to do: go home at the end of May.
At the end of the day, my own health - both physical and mental - have to come first in this, and if going home earlier than anticipated is going to help this, then who can argue? Is it really bad that all I want right now is Josh and Game of Thrones and snuggles?
Not in the slightest. My life, my choices.