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in a city this size are quite low.
    She hasn’t purchased her plane ticket yet, and I let her know when Abby is coming because I want Cara to visit at the same time.
    “You know Abby doesn’t like me, and I could use my partner in crime while she is here.”
    Cara reassures me, “It has nothing to do with you. She is just a bitch.”
    “Yeah, but it would make me feel better if you were here.”
    “Okay, I will talk to Jimmy tomorrow and see if he can schedule someone to cover my shifts while I am gone.”
    Jimmy is Cara’s boss at the Italian restaurant where she is a server. I know this won’t be a problem. Like most men, Jimmy would do anything for Cara.
    Before I let her go, I promise to keep her posted on all future juiciness.
    Going through my textbooks in preparation for tomorrow sounds like a good idea. I grab my Spanish textbook from the end table and open it to the first chapter. In bed, I lie on my stomach, propped up on my elbows. While attempting to study the first lesson, the words blur together as my mind races, taking in everything from the past two days. The gamut of emotions that I’m processing is exhausting. What a crazy whirlwind. Leaving the known—Cara, my job, my apartment, my family, and my city—to come to a place where I won’t even be speaking my own language deserves some pause.
    Coming down from the anxiety of the plane ride to take in the beauty and newness of this awe-inspiring place is a process. I wonder if everyone who travels experiences this overwhelming sensation. It wouldn’t surprise me if the people native to Spain take the beauty of their home for granted. Maybe I take the scenery in Michigan for granted? I’m sure I do. I question what it would be like to travel to other places. Would each new place bring on powerful sentiments as well? Spain has me enchanted, and I haven’t even been here for forty-eight hours. One lonely, happy tear falls, landing on the bottom of the open page. Chuckling, I wipe it off. I am such a sap, but I am so grateful to be here. The whole experience has already blown any expectation I had out of the water, and I still have three whole months here.
    During my freshman year, my communications professor had us complete a grateful diary. For the course of the semester, we were required to write down three things that we were grateful for every day. As part of our final, we were instructed to write a paper on the diary. Obviously, the ultimate goal of the project was to point out what a little bit of gratitude could bring to our lives.
    That project impacted me deeply, and I vowed to keep up my grateful diary for the rest of my life, so the greatness would never be outshadowed by the negative. My vow lasted almost a week after the semester ended. Nonetheless, from time to time, I still think about that professor and how he helped me to see the power of being thankful.
    So, today, I think of three things that I am grateful for at this very moment. First, I am grateful for student loans because they provided the funds to take this trip. Second, I am thankful that I live in a world where such diversity and beauty exist. Most importantly, I am grateful for Nolan for giving me the strength to face all my silly anxieties and for empowering me to try something new.
     
    I wake up in a fog, lying facedown, with my face smashed against the pages of my Spanish book. I grab my cell and see that it’s seven in the evening. I then hear music coming from the other side of my door. Peering in the mirror, I wipe off the smudged mascara and rub my cheek to smooth out the creases left by the crumpled pages of the book.
    Sluggishly, I make my way to the living room and abruptly stop mid-step. My mouth falls open when I see him . He’s sitting on the couch, strumming a guitar and singing. I jerk my arm out and push it against the wall in case I fall over from the shock of seeing him here in my house. He’s singing? Playing a guitar? Seriously? I steady myself and