Moving from one country to another sounds interesting and exciting, until the actual process comes to life. Packing all your lifetime belongings into boxes, taking some stuff with you so you can mend for a month until your boxes arrive, organizing the new house/apartment where you're going to be living in, and adapting to a new culture is all very stressing yet exciting.
I was born and raised in Puerto Rico, and although I had left the country a few times for vacation, I had never lived anywhere else. In February, my mom sat me and my sisters down to tell us my stepfather had found a job in the U.S and we would be moving in the summer. Now, I already knew I was going to study in the states and would have to move in September, but this now meant that my plans had to be moved a few months before. It meant saying goodbye to my family, my friends, and the place where I grew up in 3 months earlier than planned. I was very excited at first. It was a new adventure, new places, new start, and new people. I started getting cold feet about a week and a half before it was time to move because I didn't want to leave my friends behind, and although my dad still lived in Puerto Rico, who knew when I would see them again. Arriving in Florida took us a while, with 3 dogs and 16 suitcases for 5 people it was kind of a struggle but we finally made it and it has been a good experience so far.
For about 5 years, I couldn't wait to leave and get out of Puerto Rico. It was everything I dreamed of, day and night. I wasn't a big fan of where I lived and I just couldn't wait to finally get out of there and escape all the bad experiences and memories I had at that place. I just to forget the person I used to be, and move so I could start a new life and a new me. Now that I have, it's not all it's cracked up to be. The hardest part of moving is not the packing, it's not the settling into a new house, it's not organizing your stuff all over again or finding a new house, but rather saying goodbye to the people that mean the most to you. It's having to see your best friends for the last time in God knows how long, sharing the last laugh together, the last dinner, last sleepover, and many other things.
It's kissing your grandma goodbye and praying that nothing happens to her because you won't be anywhere near to help or see her if she gets ill. It's cherishing the last moments you have of bothering your 6-year-old little brother and wondering if he knows how much time will go by before he gets to see you again and knowing you won't be able to see him grow. All of those things are what hurt the most. Not losing the prettiest jewelry you own or your favorite pair of shoes while you were packing, but rather knowing that you will never have those moments the same way you've been having them for your whole life. Now 2 weeks after I moved, FaceTime has become the third wheeler between my best friends and I, and although I miss them with all my heart and can't wait to see them, I know that these were all steps I had to take to follow my dreams and all the goals I have set for myself, which I know my friends will celebrate as if they were their own.
