I got on a plane in familiar old Boston and got off in a tropical, seaside city in southern Spain (whoa, unintentional alliteration).
As it was two and a half years ago, I don't remember the exact feeling of utter terror as I got off of the plane, stepping, for the first time, onto the Spanish ground that I would proceed to tread for the next five months, but, I know that I was, in fact, utterly terrified.
However, as I got into the groove of things, I found my routine, my lifestyle, and most importantly, a strong group of friends.
Over the course of the five months we spent in Almería, we found our way together. We ate, we drank, we swam, we travelled, we studied, we struggled, but we survived. And I think we would all agree in saying that a lot of our ultimate survival can be attributed to one another.
Then, all of a sudden, much sooner than any of us had expected, the semester came to a crashing conclusion. We all said our goodbyes, promising to see each other soon but (and I hope I'm not the only asshole that had this concern) I think we all wondered how much truth there was to this promise.
But, I can now officially say that I have, in three cases, followed through.
In the last eight months, I have visited and been visited by the one and only Bobby Holliman.
The incredible Cathryn Gillen sacrificed time and money to fly from England and road trip up the East Coast with me (learning along the way the vital correlation between caffeine and Katie's good moods).
And, last but definitely not least, I lived with the unbelievably amazing Patrick Ingram (another one to add to the list of life-changing experiences!)
So I guess the valuable and ever-cheesy lesson to be learned here is to keep the people that have changed your life in your life.
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