Today a good friend of mine returned to where we first met. She technically landed tomorrow morning in France. As stated in my last post, I always want to go back to Normandy, a place I call home, but getting a message from her this afternoon saying she had arrived to the very home we lived in last year is really difficult. It had been a goal of mine to return this summer as well, but things just didn’t work out. All day, before I even got her message saying she had arrived, I have been dwelling on thoughts of Normandy and my French family and friends. I long to return so badly… I want to be back in France, thrown into the culture and language that fascinate me so. I want to see the people I met while there and spend hours talking with them. I want to walk along the beach and eat crêpes. I want to have fresh baguette sandwiches with butter, meat, and lettuce. I want to be able to wake up and see the only place that I have truly and completely considered home. But that probably won’t happen soon, and it breaks my heart.