I spent the summer in Romania, which was wonderful. The even better part? I didn't leave Romania alone this time. My husband of over a year was finally able to come with me to live on the same continent! I meant to write a blog about all of this for a while, but perhaps I'll share more later. Long story short, we were in a long-distance relationship for four years and are now finally on the same continent! It's been wonderful to have my husband here with me to show him the "American" half of my life.
So on that aspect, life is great. But there are several things making me go bonkers. This year, I've planned to apply to graduate school, however, the whole process has been making me feel incredibly small and unsure of myself. I feel anxious, I involuntarily sigh at night before falling asleep, and I feel like I'll never finish all that I've set out to do. I guess I always thought that some sort of "ideal" exists where creative and intellectual types can meet up somewhere and discuss some of the most important things the world has ever heard of...the problem, though, is that I've been seeing that bureaucracy is everywhere and, most of the time, there are many things (money, politics, ability to kiss ass) that matter much more than talent, passion, and imagination. Anyway...it's been a stressful time.
And the thing is that I've felt that studying English is what I was made for...but considering the idea that it might not happen is rather frightful. It makes me, like anyone I suppose, feel very insecure and anxious about the future. My husband, although he's only been here for less than two months, has already started mentioning that he misses Romania and that he hopes we'll be able to move back someday. However, it wasn't until he used those words that I realized that "moving back" isn't really all that true for me. Sure, I came to America when I was four, but the truth is that for me it would be more like "moving to" rather than "moving back." The idea scared me a bit because I'm not sure what I could possibly do over there (in case anyone is unfamiliar, the living situation over there isn't exactly ideal even though it pains me to admit it). My dream, deep down even though I never wanted to admit it, was to be here.
Now, however, I think I've lost a lot of my sense of direction. I don't know where I want to be...I don't know what I'll do (though I know what I want to do). But, all things aside, (and this is the prime reason for my post) there is something about Romania that sort of tugs at my heartstrings.
I was looking online for Christmas lights and I stupidly stumbled upon this picture somewhere on Google images:
It's a picture taken in a city I'm very familiar with (Ploiesti) and, just last winter, I was right there looking at this. For some, it might be just a boring picture. But I must admit it nearly brings me to tears. There are so many memories. I can almost hear the snow crunching beneath wet boots, I remember the cold wind pinching my cheeks, the smell of fire burning in chimneys, and there was so much movement in the city...a bunch of people were walking briskly about, hunched over tightly gripping their coats making sure not to slip on frozen snow. And how lovely it was to finally make it indoors where one could take off one's damp outer layers and gather with friends and family in a quaint little kitchen to drink warm beverages and perhaps smoke a cigarette near the kitchen window. Those moments are priceless. That kind of thing doesn't exist here in Los Angeles. There won't be snow and there won't be that same holiday spirit. The holiday spirit that exists in Romania is like a glimpse into 100 years ago when people had different values. Life is lonely in Los Angeles...it's not the same.
But, I suppose we move on and keep going as best as we can. Nostalgia tends to come and go.
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