Saturday, June 13, 2015

Everything Is Different

As I was looking at my TimeHop today, I was met with these two images. 

In that instant, I was transported to one year ago at this time and so vividly remember the feelings that I was plagued with each day. For a brief moment, I felt like I was reliving that day all over again. The pain was so real.

I was suddenly reliving the days when tear stained cheeks and red puffy eyes were the norm. I was remembering the physical pain I felt when saying good-bye to each of my students and to the friends who had become more like my family. Each "This is the last time I am going to do/ eat/ see this." was coming flooding back to me. And I quickly became reintroduced to feeling so disoriented; as if it was someone else living my life.

Not only did I go back to the difficulties of leaving Honduras, but also the struggles that faced me upon landing in the States. There were so many tears for the life I had left behind and so many tears for not being able to embrace the blessings in front of me at home. There was the feeling that I didn't belong anywhere anymore and that I would never love any place more than I loved Honduras. That I would never love my life anymore than I did during the two years I called Siguatepeque my home.

The pain was intense and it was constant. At the beginning, I couldn't make it through a church service without crying. Naps, tears, and hours spent alone we part of my daily routine. At the beginning, I was unable to see past the pain. I was so wrapped up in it that I was unable to see all the blessings that come from loving places and people so deeply. And there was no way that I was going to find any comfort in all of the blessings that were heading my way.

Slowly, and without realizing it, the time spent alone grew shorter. The sobbing calls to my roommates from Honduras became weekly as opposed to daily, and soon monthly as opposed to weekly. 

Soon, I was able to look back on my time in Honduras without feeling pain that it had ended, but rather joy that it had happened. That's not to say that I don't miss Honduras and the relationships that were built there. I miss that country as much today as I did the day that I left it almost 365 days ago. 

When looking at the images that appeared on my TimeHop, the pain I felt wasn't for me. Not the me that I am today. The pain I felt was for the me who I was one year ago. What she was going through was hard, sometimes unbearably so. She thought that the good-byes would be the hardest part, but was unprepared for the weeks ahead of her in the States. I felt pain for her, but I didn't feel pain for me.

Over the last 365 days, each day was a battle. A battle to find the positives in the situations given to me. A battle to look back on my time in Honduras with love as opposed to the thought of it filling me with sorrow. A battle to love Honduras while also loving the States and Brazil. Some days were good, some days weren't so great. But each day brought me to here-- 365 days later when I can see all of the positives that came from living in, and leaving, Honduras.

A year ago today, I couldn't even fathom a life that didn't involve living in Honduras. But here I am, one year later, doing exactly that. Day by day, nothing seems to change. But all of a sudden, you look back and everything is different.

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