Beloved reality

Looking at my first post, I feel guilty. This blog looks like everything I have once started: my journal, my novel, my homework… Maybe I’m just not good at concentrating on one thing.

But that was a promise. A promise of letting you know what’s going on with me.

I have been back in Germany for almost a month now, to be precise, for 26 days. I want to try to describe my situation.

I arrived at home and I felt something I had never felt before. I came home to the place where I grew up, to the place I know so well but it felt strange. Had the house grown bigger?

Then I met all the people again. I met my relatives and I went to school to see my friends. There I got the biggest surprise of all. I had always thought we all had changed so much during the ten months of my absence that it would be hard to meet each other again. I had even thought that we might not end up being friends anymore. But actually none of us had changed a bit. There are still the same kind of jokes everyone laughs about, there are still the same talks. I love you all for that!

Now after 26 days I hate the fact that nothing had changed. Yes, it’s fine that the people are still the same. It’s more than fine. But why had NOTHING changed at all?

It feels like I had never left last August, exactly 11 months ago. It seems like I had been here all the time. (Even though sometimes I just can’t get into the conversation when there are stories told about things that had happened during the last months.)

The first morning I woke up in my bed. (I can’t describe my happiness having slept in my very own bed again!) I felt a bit hungover. There it was: the social hangover. What else did I expect after months of great adventures and experiences? But what was even worse, suddenly Finland and the exchange weren’t real anymore. It was like waking up from a long dream and the more time goes by the further everything is away.

Once I was seriously wondering if I had just dreamed something really, really awesome. Maybe it was just dream. But one that has changed my life and still influences me a lot.

But on the other hand, there are all these photos, letters, postcards, journals and facebook friends.

This is all evidence I have. I didn’t dream.

But sometimes awesome things like my exchange feel so unreal compared to the dull normality. 

Doesn't it look like a dream? But how canI have photos of it then?