I don't mean to say I don't enjoy living in Brussels, or that this hasn't been as amazing of an experience as any other time I've lived abroad. I do enjoy Brussels, and how could six months in the Capital of Europe be anything but an awesome experience? Between the mouth-watering local specialties (chocolate, French fries, beer), the weekend trips to nearby cities (London, Amsterdam, Paris), meeting new people (including a fellow Minnesotan!), and simply living life in my adorable neighborhood (the cheese shop down the block is pure heaven), I couldn't have asked for a better trip. So what's with the ambivalence towards it all coming to an end?
Maybe it has something to do with my attachment to this city. I enjoy Brussels, but I don't love it like I love Paris. If I never lived in Brussels again it wouldn't bother me in the least, whereas I'm constantly thinking of ways to get back to my beloved City of Light. It could also be that I don't see such an enormous difference between living in Brussels and living in DC. When it was time to leave Cannes, France for St. Joseph, Minnesota, I knew I'd be in for a shock. But going from one government city with crappy weather to another government city with crappy weather? Piece of cake. Or maybe it's precisely because I've been here before. Maybe after you have so many moves under your belt you become immune to their more drastic emotional effects. Yes, there are plenty of things I'll miss about my life in Brussels, and I'm sure the day I fly to DC will be more than a little bittersweet, but history has taught me that life will go on. And that my next international adventure is probably just around the corner.