It took awhile to get the perfect shot to accompany this post – you know, aperture and shutter speed and all that jazz – so I hope you’ll forgive the delay. To start, I haven’t taken your bracelet off since you gave it to me, I’ve worn Chloé every single day, hardcore work on my Europe book starts tomorrow, and this journal and the letter inside are too wonderful to adequately capture in a photograph.
“Everything you do is an experience, and every place you see is a memory.”
You’re right, there is nothing like living in Europe for four months. I’ve been here little more than four days and I know that already. There’s nothing like travel, like living truly on your own for the first time, like experiencing new cultures. But the thing is, there’s also nothing like being able to come home at the end of it to family and friends like I have, with you at the top of that list.
New Year’s Eve was, at least for me, pure and perfect contentment. And for me, that’s really saying something, because I generally fear being content. Contentment, to me, always seems an awful lot like complacency, and so I tend to run from any semblance of feeling “fine,” lest I slip down the path to the ordinary. But this was not that. It was the certain knowledge that even if I had the option of doing anything else, with anyone else, I wouldn’t take it. Quite the opposite of feeling “fine,” it was a feeling of overwhelming gratitude. Because you guys are all I really need, and because of that being together could never be ordinary.
All that to say, thank you for everything. I continue to be so lucky to have you as my best friend. I know these are about to be four of the best, most memorable months of my life, traveling to the most interesting and beautiful places I’ve ever been. And when it’s over, I’ll be back home with you, lying in my squeaky twin bed telling you all about it, and I will be perfectly content.
I love you,