so much to say, so much on my mind

My last night in Madrid I was quiet. I tend to get quiet and withdrawn when I am feeling sad. We went to a couple of tapas bars (the shrimp! the asparagus! the calamari!) and I just felt like I couldn't connect. I ended up crying as I walked across Puerta del Sol, the very location I had been cheering in the New Year the previous night. I didn't want to leave. I loved Madrid. I really, really loved it. I didn't want to leave my sister. I didn't want to go back to the responsiblity of a job, and a family. I wanted to keep seeing new places and meeting new people. I wanted to continue dancing to Shakira and drinking sangria at El Buscon. I still wanted to throw napkins and olive pits on the floor while I stood and ate. I still wanted to sit for 2 1/2 hours, eating a delicious lunch and enjoying wonderful conversation, knowing I didn't have anywhere to be, and all the shops were closed anyway. I love this life. And right now, I am wondering if this is the way life is meant to be. I love my life in L.A. I adore my friends and we have fun together. I missed them while I was gone. But coming home was hard. I don't have a conclusion to this becaue I feel very confused. Maybe it was just a really good vacation. But life can't always be a vacation. Maybe I love too much to be happy. I really enjoy embracing every moment and squeezing the life out of it. I think I am a passionate person. Perhaps to a fault.