It always makes me a bit sad whenever Christmas is over. The holiday has come and gone, you finally realize quite how much you spent and the magic seems to have fizzled out over night. I won't lie and say that this year has been any different. But some how, a little of the magic still remains. Maybe it's the prospect of numerous opportunities in the coming new year or maybe it's the fact that time is passing by quicker than ever now and I am trying to enjoy every minute of it.
My flight to Italy leaves in sixty-three days. I remember this trip being a figment of my imagination, something I only imagined when I closed my eyes at night and dreamed. The fact is that until, let's just admit it, Christmas morning I had no clue how my mother and I were going to find the remaining money to pay off the trip. That was until I opened a present from my father and promptly burst into tears, hugged my mother tight and sobbed. Enough money to pay off this months payment and a half of next. The thought that whizzed through my brain in that moment were joined with a flurry of emotion. This is happening, I am going. I was shocked. Beyond shocked.
It all feels so real now, there is no more guessing and no more panic, just girl-ish planning. What should I wear on the plane? What footwear is appropriate? Ouu, those shoes would look adorable out dancing in Spain!
I feel dizzy thinking about it. Everyone keeps saying things like, I know there's not many Christmas presents, I'm sorry, but don't forget Italy is under that tree too! Like I could ever forget, I don't think I could be more full of gratitude. I am forever grateful and doubt that I could say thank you enough. Four months ago this trip was so far out of reach, with it's 3,130$ price tag. But now, it's only sixty-three days away, and I just can't believe it.
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