England, from the Outside Looking In

I was perusing through old emails yesterday at work and came across several of the group emails I had written back in ‘05/’06 while I was abroad in England. What a carefree life I lived! One email dated in early May, immediately after my return from Greece, noted that my next exam was not until early June so I had three full weeks with nothing to do but “read and think.” Sitting here in my cubicle staring at a computer screen, with no windows within 30 feet, that sounds just about like paradise.

It gets you wondering: will I ever be as happy as I was in England? Maybe it’s just the passage of time and the older version of myself romanticizing a time that must have felt at least a little uncertain. I know I wasn’t content in England. I was restless and worried that I was missing out on something, though I wasn’t sure what it was. I missed my friends and family from home and was upset over a past relationship.

But still, I know that for a great deal of time I was consciously happy, even exuberant. I read a ton, wandered a ton, traveled a ton, partied a ton. Even as I was living it, I knew that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I’m still young and only have light responsibilities, but my experiences in England seem very remote to my life here in NYC. From here on, things only get more rigid as I add more and more responsibilities.

And even though, given the opportunity, I probably wouldn’t want to have a repeat of junior year in college again, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever feel as happy as I did then, whether what I’m experiencing will ever fit so perfectly with my desires and expectations.

Could it be that the best years of a person’s life are when they’re in college? Doesn’t that seem just a little bit unfair?