Whirlwind that is my life.

It's been two months since my last post. Two. Whole. Months. Of. Hell. Hence, the no-post situation.

From my previous posts, I think you can start to see a very distinct pattern of misery, but it was certainly not full-fledged misery just yet. The misery was only just getting started. My already difficult semester went from bad to worse very, very quickly.

I lost myself. Unless you consider the weight I started gaining, "gaining" myself, but I don't. I got so depressed and so homesick in these last couple of months. My professors didn't care about the classes they were teaching and my fellow classmates cared even less. I, on the other hand, seemed to be doing all of the caring for everybody and was studying more and harder than ever... Only to be rewarded by the worse grades I've ever gotten in my life. C's and D's... and even (gasp) an F.

I was off my game.

In addition to that, however, so was everything and everyone else around me, which was definitely a contributing factor in the mess that had become my life. I was missing trains, exhausted, and so undeniably spent.

There was sweat, blood, AND plenty of tears... but I made it through. I made it through with straight B's. Not the best grades I've ever gotten, but certainly could have been worse given the circumstances.

Now, despite this unusually gloomy weather we've been having for the past month or so, I feel like I'm on the world's best vacation in comparison. The first week of my summer vacation is complete and I couldn't be happier. I got into the school I applied to in California and my only job this summer is to apply for scholarships, set up my schedule, and take care of my mind, body, and spirit while I wait for the next chapter to start.

Jason and I move back to California on August 1st. 4 days before the 1 year mark until our wedding day. 6 days before our three-year anniversary. 7 days before Jason's 26th birthday. And 24 days before my 24th birthday.

Wow.

What a whirlwind my life has been since I started this blog nearly a year and 4 months ago already.

I've learned and grown so much more than I even know how to put into words at this point... Words that I know will come the more time that I get to spend recuperating from all that I've been through.

I like to think that I've always tried to be the best that I can be at all times. Even when I fell short of what was right, or let my naivety get the best of me, I still truly believe I've always strove for my best self. This year was no different, but I was tested in ways that I never had been before and just like in anything else in life-- when we're tested, we grow. When we grow, it hurts. If it hurts, you're doing something right. You're living.

And that's all we can ever really ask for.

Love and light...

xx,
City Girl from Cali

You can never go home again.

I'm sure you have heard this phrase before... "You can never go home again." I always personally thought that I knew what it meant, but as it turns out, up until last week- I really didn't.

After 4 months of living out in the "real world" and away from the home I was born and raised in, I finally went back to visit. Just the idea that I now have to go home to visit is still such a strange concept to wrap my head around. Now, I was obviously overwhelmed with excitement to be reunited with my friends, family and, of course, my puppies. But, I was also anticipating the weirdness that was sure to go along with it. I knew that it wouldn't be the same, especially without my handsome future hubby there with me.

What I didn't anticipate, however, was how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to him; even if only for a week. When I was getting out of the car at the departures terminal of the airport and receiving one final hug and kiss, I couldn't even attempt to stop the overflow of heart-wrenching tears that ensued. Yes, it was only going to be 7 days and 7 nights apart. I told myself this (not to mention how embarrassingly pathetic I was behaving) repeatedly. Although, in this moment (and many to follow), I simply didn't care. We had been through so much together in the those short 4 months that being apart would mean I would have to basically spend the next week feeling like I was missing a limb.

In addition, I've always hated flying. Especially by myself. I spent the entire flight trying to force away my anxiety with my mind; going in and out of feeling sad to have parted with my other half, followed by feeling overjoyed to get to see my mom in less than 6 hours. Talk about an emotional roller coaster.

My mom picked me up from the airport with both of my furry little Shih-Tzus awaiting me in the front seat. While they were excited to see me, they didn't try to hide the fact that were also a little pissed at me- the bitch who left them. Understandable, but nonetheless somewhat heartbreaking. When your dog, the one who has always jumped up and down at the sight of you instead is giving you the side-eye, you'll know what I mean.

The moment we pulled into my drive and I stepped foot into the last place I called home before I decided to "become an adult" or whatever, my heart sank to my stomach. It looked so much smaller. My mom told me to, "Hold on! Wait here!" before walking into my old room. After waiting a few seconds, she told me to come in and then shouted, "Ta-da!"

She had completely redone my old room. New paint, new bedspread, new art on the walls, candles everywhere, and the furniture completely rearranged. It was beautiful, I actually couldn't help but wonder why I had never done it that way myself, but it also made me a little sad. It wasn't really my room anymore.

I was afraid that my first night away from Jason would be tough, but after celebratory champagne and In N Out with my mom and my best friend (also considering the fact that it was about 4 AM East Coast time), I fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The days that followed went by in a blur. I expected that to happen though, for it go by far too quickly. I spent time with my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my baby cousin, my dad, my friends, and mostly my mom. I got to do my favorite "California things" like go to Newport Beach, go to an Angel's game, drive up to the mountains, go shopping, lay by the pool, eat Mexican food, and so on... While I was busy with all of those activities, I was also blessed with plenty of downtime as well. Time to just sit and talk for hours on end with the people I'm closest to. I learned how healing and grounding it is to be able to let your guard down and just be close to those who matter most to you. I never realized how grateful I am for such a crazy and close family until I had to live without them.

My last night home, before I had to wake up at 3 AM to go back to the airport, hit me like a ton of bricks. One minute I was sitting in my kitchen, drinking wine, laughing at something silly with my best friend and my mom, and the very next I was openly sobbing into my wine glass. My dog, Honey Bunny, crawled into my lap and stayed there, kissing my tears away, for over an hour.

Moving away from everyone and everything you've ever known is not at all for the faint of heart. It does, however, make you appreciate your loved ones more than you thought possible. It allows you to feel small (in a good way) because maybe for the first time in your life you understand how big this world really is. And while leaving home the second time was surprisingly harder than the first, simply knowing that when my big adventure is over, I'll have a home to go back to... Well, that just makes it all the more worthwhile.

Oh and my new fiancé picking me up from the airport with a dozen pink roses didn't really suck either.