I’m worried that something similar might happen when I return from college. Instead of feeling comfortable and relieved, I’ll feel unfamiliar and awkward, like I’m staying at a friend’s house for a week before I return to Boston. I’ve often heard sayings such as “home is where the heart is,” but how am I supposed to call this new place “home” without the proper time to love it?
What I wrote in my journal abroad didn’t seem worth sharing since many entries were half-formed thoughts. But there’s more there than I initially realized. I wrote for the hell of it — which, I think, is the best type of writing. Now, I'm diving into my unfiltered journal entries from abroad — they’re raw, real and vulnerable.
Welcome to this extra-special edition of “Maia’s Inner Monologue” — rules for the week. Buckle up, because we’re about to take a journey into self-growth and love!
