I don’t know what to write. To be honest I feel quite bummed about being back home I guess.
The weather and surroundings are so different! In Nice the sun was shining, the ocean was turquoise and it was so hot outside you could walk around in shorts and a loose tank top.
Time didn’t really matter - everyone were relaxed and smiled at each other as if to say “don’t you just love these beautiful summer days?”
Back in Sweden the sky is grey, it’s still too cold for summer clothing and everywhere you go people have no other choice, but to entirely cover themselves in jackets and long pants.
But although I miss the heat, the sun and the feeling of being pleased no matter where I went I can’t go back. I love vacations, but the problem is - the time doesn’t stop just because you’re not at home anymore. Meanwhile I was gone my sister found my grandmother almost dead in her home. No one told me because they didn’t want to upset me when I was away and although I’m thankful I hate not knowing or being around when things like this happens.
I caught a cold on the plane home and now I can’t visit her with the risk of making her sick. She’s so fragile and weak and wouldn’t survive if something like that would happen. Instead, I’m sitting in the hospital reception meanwhile my parents are visiting her, wishing I could be closer to her than I already am.
I don’t know why I’m writing all of this for you to read, since usually my posts are always short and with the intentions of being motivating and inspiring. I guess I just didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts.
To all of you who actually read all of this - I’m sorry for taking up your time.