Hasta Luego, Sevilla

The worst thing about emotions is trying to label something that can't be written down. Words liberate yet pin things down at the same time. No one will ever be able to fully understand what it feels like to walk past Plaza de España every day on my way to school and be overwhelmed by its impressive beauty, and then to pass by it today knowing it could be the last time I ever see it except in my photographs. The panic sets in- why didn't I spend more time trying to take the perfect photo of Plaza de España? I walked down a street in Plaza Nueva- why didn't I ever stop in that little hole in the wall shop before? I went with a girl in my program to the University of Sevilla clothing store, which it turns out is on a street I walk down at least once a week. Why haven't I noticed it before? What else haven't I taken the time to see?

Then I realize that what I have taken the time to do is absorb the energy emitted by the people and things around me. Maybe I haven't been to every little shop in Sevilla or eaten at every restaurant, but that really isn't the point of living or even visiting a place. Places are defined by their buildings and people and points of attraction, but what I will remember most about the places I've been is the atmosphere- how I felt while I was there. When I see pictures of Torre de Oro, I won't just think of Sevilla and the tower, I'll think how wonderful it felt each morning to walk across the bridge from Triana to the city and feel the sunlight splash across my body, see the kayakers doing their morning routines on the river, and the palm trees waving to me. I've been happy in Sevilla, and no hole in the wall shop would have made me feel that my time was better spent. 

Spaniards have a habit of never saying "adios"- instead they say "hasta luego" which means "until later." Good byes have always been my least favorite thing in the entire world- even lower on my list of dislikes than trying new foods and cold weather. If you never say an official good bye to someone, it's like you've left the door open. You haven't put a beginning and ending on your time with someone. It's the same with places. I didn't go anywhere today specifically knowing it was the last time I would go there. Yes, I went to school knowing it was the last time, and same with Plaza de España, but I didn't go to my favorite spot in the park today to say goodbye. Because I now, when I think about that spot, I will think of all the times I ran there and stood for a few minutes to catch my breath, thinking about how I was one of the luckiest people in the world to be in that spot. There was only happiness there, not the sadness of goodbyes. Goodbyes are obligatory when dealing with people, but I'll admit that I tried to slip out of school today without saying goodbye to people I didn't directly run in to. With Sevilla, I like to think that it really is "until next time." I like to think that I'll be back sometime in the future. I'd like to bring my future husband and children here someday, so that they can see the place that has had such an impact on the person I've become and understand the things that I talk about. But the scariest thing about travel and the future is its uncertainty, and I know that that dream could never come true. I could never walk the streets of Sevilla again. If I never come back, will I be happy with the time I've spent here? The answer is definitely yes. Sevilla won't hold a piece of my heart here in Spain, meaning I'm not leaving a part of me behind. Instead, I'm taking a piece of Sevilla back home with me. I'm leaving the most beautiful city in the world fuller because of the experiences that I've had here. Although I'm definitely sad to have to leave, I know that I'm better off because I came here. I think that's why I don't mind the sadness right now- the sorrow just proves even further that I've been happier than I ever could have imagined I could be, and there's absolutely nothing to regret about that.