race you to the waterside.

In exactly one week from this moment, I will be going to my last doctor’s appointment before I leave for France.  I set a deadline, and I’ve stuck to it.  I’m so excited about two months free of doctors, tests, questions, and thoughts.  In fact, I’ve already started to forget that this is a problem at all…so much so that I can’t find the words to talk about it.

In exactly two weeks from this moment, I will be putting the finishing touches on a (presumably very full) suitcase and getting ready for the last dinner with my family.

In exactly two weeks and one day from this moment, I will be leaving.  For Paris.  For the summer.  That little fact still hasn’t sunk in.

In exactly three and a half weeks from this moment, I will be going to the Loire valley for wine tasting and chateaus with an incredible group of friends and peers.

In exactly, exactly one month from this very moment, I’ll be in the midst of the most complicated first date I’ve ever had.  It will be the result of 4 flights, 2 train rides, 15,153 miles of traveling, days of planning, 9 months and 30 days of waiting, and a whole lot of nerves.  I have a feeling, though, that in a restaurant tucked amongst the busy streets of London, that it will all ultimately be worth it.

In exactly one month and four weeks from this moment, I’ll be taking my last day of class in Paris, packing my things, and preparing for two weeks of jet-setting around Europe with my best friend, new roommate, and aussie boyfriend.

In exactly two months and four days from this moment, I’ll be watching one of my favorite bands perform in Brussels alongside said aussie boyfriend.

In exactly two months, one week, and three days from this moment, I’ll be spending my final night in Europe.  I could be anywhere from Amsterdam, Brussels, Rome, or Paris…but the important thing is that I’ll be there.  I have no idea what I’ll be feeling or thinking at that moment, when two long months of my life come to a close.  I hope I’ll be looking back on my trip with a sense of joy, a sense of growth and accomplishment.  I hope I’ll look back and smile, laugh, and probably cry (especially when saying one particular goodbye at the airport).  I hope I’ll look back with fondness and love, and with a suitcase infinitely more full than when I left.  I hope I’ll look back on two of the best months of my life.  For now, though, I’m excited to be looking forward.