Are you comfortable?

Two things you may not know about me is that 1. Avocados are my favorite fruit, and 2. I actually am a very sensitive person. Sensitive like I get my feelings hurt easily, not sensitive like I care how a flower or ants feel. Only those people that really know me are able to tell when I am sensitive to something that has been said to me. When I get my feelings hurt I get very, very quiet. Not because I attempt to make people around me uncomfortable or aware as to my feelings, but as I tend to be the loudest one in a social setting. Therefore take my voice out of what is contributed to a group and the volume immediately decreases. Unfortunately, the conversation immediately turns to, “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet? What happened? What was said to you?” To which I reply, “Nothing. I’m fine.” In an attempt to quickly and discretly diffuse the conversation.

This exact situation has happened twice. Why is it my fault if the mood softens? Why should I be the one to dictate the entire volume of a crowd? Is it my responsibility as the “loud one” to cast my feelings aside in order to satisfy others insecurities?

This circumstance of me being overly sensitive came to my attention after something that happened today. I have had a very bad head cold the last three days. I am a week into my 8 months of traveling. I am missing my boyfriend, parents and friends more than I imagined I would at this point in time. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, last weekend was my birthday. Alicia is surrounded by her family and is able to communicate fluently with them. I have only spoken to my parents twice and left a voicemail for my boyfriend. I had a chance to use the email tonight at a dinner Alicia’s aunt was cooking for us, but declined going altogether as to not get other sick. Basically, I feel about as alone as one could feel.

I know I am physically tough after competing in sports at the Division I collegiate level. This kind of emotionally toughness is an animal entirely it’s own. I have to find ways to get through being alone and feeling sad. I have attempted to learn German in order to communicate with family dynamic I have been dealt for the next few weeks. This has proved successful to some degree. Reading and listening to music have been the only other two ways I have found to busy myself and remind me just enough of home to keep me going, but not so much to make me want to go home. After Alicia left for dinner, I took a shower and settled down for some much anticipated reading and music listening. The song I was dying to listen to was the song that belongs to me and my boyfriend. “Our Song.” I have never had a song with anyone before so this one is very special. I scroll through my IPOD and cannot find the artist of the song. My song is nowhere to be found. Also missing are the 50+ cds I had recently downloaded prior to departure a week ago. Gone. Poof. Like the IPOD gods were playing a terrible, cruel joke on me. I then realize what must have happened. When I plugged my IPOD into Alicia’s laptop in order to charge the battery it put all her music in place of my music, while her IPOD still has all of my music on it that she uploaded prior to leaving.

What do all capable, adventurous females do in this situation, in a house in Germany, when they are all alone? They cry. They cry like they have never cried before. Like their favorite dog died. Like their life is as bad as it gets. Like the deterioration of their music represents the deterioration of their first born’s health.

So here I am scribbling down in the journal Dr. CPK gave me the day before I left. Alicia has her laptop, I usually type my blogs on, with her at the dinner I am supposed to be at, emailing pictures and sentiments to eager family and friends. While I sit here, watching her Grandma peel carrots. Then I remember what I have attempting to remind myself all along. “This trip isn’t about being comfortable. It’s about making the best with what you have.” Right now, I feel like I have nothing. But I will always, until it is over, have the fact that I am on this trip. That I am following through with what most people have dreamed and what few have acted upon. I guess I was just unprepared to encounter these feelings so soon into the trip. No, I am not coming home. I am just going to have to toughen up, dry my eyes and find comfort in something else.

Two Hours Later.

Playing solitaire the old-fashioned way, with real cards. Alicia comes home and informs me that since I always am listening to music and she seldom does, that I can use her IPOD for the most part and she will use mine. I can be such a baby sometimes.