I LOST COUNT OF HOW LONG it’s been since I’ve returned from Europe, but I never thought I’d miss my life there—and adventuring—as much as I do.

I’m currently working to put together a Eurospring photo exhibit at our campus’ library, and was lead back to a small fraction of the photographs I took during the two month journey. I’ve not looked through about 75 percent of them since my return because, quite honestly, I don’t feel ready to; those that I did view, however, left me aching. How absolutely beautiful I had it, and how riveting and fresh my world was during that time. How terrifying, then comforting it all became with time, places, and experiences—and the glory of life an elsewhere far and wide away. I couldn’t have asked for more.

Things have been very well here lately, don’t get me wrong. I feel motivated and inspired. I love my new home and the people I reside with, and I am thankful to have wonderful instructors, my friends, family, my health, transportation, talents and freedom. I can’t ask for more.

But this ache is my pitfall, and I feel missing from a place across the sea.