Bitter Sweet

So I left Granada yesterday. I couldn't help but shed a tear or two as I tried to say goodbye to the kids. They didn't really understand that we weren't going to see each other again for a really long time, if at all. That is better for them, probably, but worse for me. I only managed to get a hug out of Fransisco, and because I was crying, my host mom was crying too. She gave me a big hug and then I walked out of the door, unable to cox a hug out of the other two. Right as I shut the door Antonio started screaming because he didn't get to say goodbye and give me besito, so I had to open the door again.

I remember on the plane that left Minnesota, I was a little upset and at the point of tears, because I was leaving my state. I didn't cry because I knew I would be back. As much as I assure myself that I will come back to Spain and Granada, I can't really be sure, and if I do, I know it won't be the same. I did cry when the bus pulled out of the bus station, and then the city of Granada, much to the dismay of the rather good looking guy sitting next to me, I am sure. He didn't do anything to comfort me, I resented him (kidding), got myself under control and we had a plesant but silent 5 hour journey to Madrid.

So there you go. I am beginning my voyage home! My unwillingness to leave here is by far overshadowed by my enthusiasm to see you all and a longing to be home again.