I dread summer.

When did it happen? No idea. How did it happen? No idea. Why did it happen? NO idea. But it did, and I am so glad it did. Nothing in me wants to leave this place. I love it here. I am so overwhelmed not about coming home, but about saying good-bye again.

The first time it was yeah, I'm coming back come...so it is no big deal, and I cried, and thought really hard, and was scared...but in the end I didn't know what I was scared of. The unknown...the "I am about to be on my own...at seventeen/eightteen....in a foreign country...with a language I can't speak." It was the things that I didn't that I could manage that scared me. What people would think of me. Would I even make friends? Would I fit into the culture. And now?

I am sitting here a little over 5 months looking to the future, and all I see is "Good-bye". And there is pain in that. There is pain in having to look these people, who have accepted me, and taught me their culture and language, who have become my friends, and knowing that my time with them is short. In my heart, they will always mean something to me. But it's like one of the girls said, "It's hard to stay in touch." I mean look at America... I can't keep up with y'all to save my life, and Germany too... she's right. It's hard.

I know what's coming. And as much as I love summer with the long days of work, and the spontaneous speeding (dad that's a lie) to get home to take a shower, getting ready, and going out, just to come home in time to see my parents pasted out on the couch. Those are great things. Missed things even, but I don't know how my heart is going to do when I leave. This place feels like home. I dread you, Summer. And, June, you in particular.

Tears will flow the entire week to two weeks before I leave.
To the best Germans I know! I love you all. :)