The magic of everyday life | no. 1: distance

I would like to test-run a series I want to call “The magic of everyday life” (inspired by a class once taught by the iconic Professor Justin Armstrong). I am in dire need of practice writing in and committing to a casual tone, and I think that a series focussed on the exquisite realities of the everyday is a great place to start. This series will be a combination of free writes, streams of consciousness, and a concerted effort not to sound like I’m writing a persuasive essay for a class that only exists in my head. Enjoy!

The closest I’ve felt to some of my friends is when we’re the farthest apart.

I had the good fortune of being able to spend 24 hours at Wellesley College on my way to my study abroad program here in Barcelona. I’m more than one month in, and I miss all my friends tremendously.

I guess keeping in touch starts to become more of a priority when you’re half way across the world as opposed to half way across campus. Throughout my sophomore year, I found it alarmingly easy to let the semester slip by with a perpetual raincheck on a lunch date. Of course, there’s the old adage “out of sight, out of mind.” But I’ve learned that this statement, for me, is unequivocally false.

While I adore studying abroad and being immersed in another culture, my heart remains at home. At home in the house that is now shared between my father and my sister. With my grandparents in both Jamaica and Haiti. With each of my little cousins as they grow up faster than I can write this blog post. With my friends who I can only contact via our Whatsapp group chat until our next link up. And of course, at home with my friends at Wellesley whom I miss so dearly.

Of course, there are many tender sides to distance. I don’t often admit it, but I sometimes feel remarkably close to my mother now that most of our conversations are one-sided. (Those conversations that aren’t one-sided have been firmly relegated to the realm of dreams). I sometimes wonder if it’s because I am much more willing to let her inside my head than angsty-teenaged-Lia was.

Distance is a great exercise in awareness. I have so much to learn here as I study in Barcelona, and I am so grateful for the opportunity. Nevertheless, I can’t help but recall with nostalgia the first half of my college experience. So today, from far away, I’m missing:

Birthday twins, blurry pictures, bright smiles, and black excellence.

Table reads, tech weeks, too-late nights, and ‘thank you, five!’s.

Reading each other’s minds, finishing each other’s sentences, waking each other up, and waking up to each other.

…and all the other people who made my sophomore year at Wellesley incredible. I can’t wait to see you all in the spring.

I miss my friends!

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