Hello again, and perchance for the last time. As I sit here at Katie’s house watching the Bachelor (wonder why I’m writing it now, no?), life seems to be back to normal. I have spent the last two days relaxing around the L-ville, playing a bit of guitar, and overall doing nothing.
Side note: I’m watching this show sporadically, so if I seem to jump subjects (as I’m about to do), please forgive me. But this show, this Lt. Suave guy, he’s kissing all these different women. Why would a woman want to sign up to fall for Lt. Suave and watch him, even if he does fall reciprocally for said woman, kiss all these other women? I wouldn’t stand for it—I don’t stand for it.
So there it was. And interesting enough, this accurately represents what I think about this whole return. I have done absolutely zero tv watching while in Geneva (minus about one hour of Virginia Tech coverage), and now, back at home, here I am watching the Bachelor. Many other idiosyncrasies have also shown their face since I’ve arrived. I will never be able to recount them all, so I shall not even attempt it.
As I departed the Knox Centre in Geneva, Suisse, I felt a mixture of sadness and joy—mostly sadness. I was sad to leave my friends, my new home, my favorite city in Europe. I was excited to leave the damned Knox Centre, but other than that, not much was dragging me homeward.
In the airport I said my goodbyes to Kate who, luckily, was staying for a few more weeks to travel. It was the most difficult one (sans un) to say because I have no doubt that she is a new found best friend, yet she goes to school in Texas and her parents live in Jakarta (who lives there? I mean, seriously). It was difficult, but my lovely Kate gave me a goodbye chocolate bar—for that I will always love her.
I ditched out and soon boarded my last European plane. Bound for Newark, I sat idly by and watched Europe disappear. As I said, I was quite saddened by my imminent departure from my lifelong experiences. I was also saddened to leave a few certain people. The flight was long, boring, and, until Gin offered me her shoulder, quite restless.
After arriving in Newark and being welcomed “home”, I walked through the final customs check and allowed myself one last feeling of nostalgia (okay, maybe one last for those few minutes). The shock of arriving in America was not left at the wayside. The first commercial enterprise I ran across after walking onto American soil was a Starbucks. Welcome home, Kevin.
After saying goodbye to Virginia Bain and countless others (actually, I could probably count them on one hand), I quickly left to check my bags for my next flight. I hung out with Amy and Abby and Molly for a while, and then the order narrowed down further to just Amy and I. We sat a bit, talked a bit, and ate a bit. I said goodbye to her, and headed through security.
Homeward bound—home home, you know? Well, push it back a few more hours—my flight was delayed about 90 minutes. Oh well. A little more reading, and I was home. Not much changed.
I wont lie, I’m feeling nostalgic as I write this. But I’ve also realized a lot of things that I missed. First, let me tell you what I miss from yonder, over the pond. I miss the language. I miss the foreignness yet closeness of Geneva. I miss people. Y’all know who you are, and if you don’t, you probably shouldn’t. I miss the traveling, the laziness, and the overall excitement of doing nothing yet being so damned content.
And now that I’ve spoken on the various things that I long for that I’ve left behind, I am not quite sure what it was that I felt urged to divulge about America. And now that I’ve been trapped into a conversation about greater things than Geneva with a friend online, I’ve fallen off the track of where to go with this. So I suppose here is as proper of a place to end as any. I am glad to be home, but at the same time I’d give just about anything to be back there with those people. In closing, it’s nice to be back, but I’m leaving again in 2 weeks, so see me now if the time is appropriate.
A Bientôt
-Kevin Joseph Creighton
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