One of my fondest memories was of a day spent seaside in Nice, France. I was alone yet amongst hundreds lying on the rocky beach listening to my music when Clair de Lune came on. It was at that moment when everything came into perspective: I'm lying on the beach in France. France. It was so perfect. I started to laugh and cry all at the same time. Who am I to get this opportunity of a lifetime? Like many instances prior, I suddenly overly appreciated the fact that I was here, living in Europe. I probably listened to the piano play that same sweet song 20 times before the sun fell too low in the sky to justify my purpose of being out there that day. As I write this post I go through the same laugh/cry emotions that I felt then. I was so ready to come home but now I find myself missing all of the people and places that perhaps I took for granted when I was in the moment. I love escaping back into my memories of Rome and Nice and Barcelona and Minori because it was that time spent in those places where I felt like I didn't have to worry about what the heck I was going to do with life when I got back to the States. It was my last days of blissful freedom and that is something I will not soon forget.