I was in the middle of doing my summer homework, and my pen ran out, so I went upstairs to get a new one. When I was searching for one, I saw my flag. The one that my people signed when I left. The giant flag of chile that has so many memories and so much love written onto it. The one that embodies the tradition of and reason for youth exchange. That flag.
So, well, I got distracted and picked it up and started to read it.
Wow.
As I read those words, it came flooding back to me. All of my people. My Chileans. My exchange family. All their love. All my love. All the reasons I never wanted to come back. Our love for each other was created and magnified through the fragile and temporary nature of our relationships. We observed and enjoyed each other all the more because we knew that it would all have to end in June. Is this what they mean by live each day as if it was your last?
Through the notes left on my flag by these people who knew me in such a unique way, I have re-discovered little tidbits about myself. Stuff that my family and my people here, who know me forever do not realize. It was a very precious opportunity we had when we wrote on those flags. However, I think I may have ruined my chance by trying to play it safe and not writing what I really, truly felt about those people who I loved. I only hope that in my attempt to not cause contempt, the messages I left on other peoples' flags were not too sanitized, and serve to help them discover more about themselves, as their messages did for me.
thank you, to my people from Chile. For now, I have something to write about in my college essays.
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| a picture of my flag I took right when I got back |
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