I had dinner with the Europeans tonight.
It really always goes the same, like a short round-trip vacation to Europe.
First, you arrive and you feel strangely familiar yet disconnected at the same time, only because you’ve seen more, you know more, and these people are just the same old. Then, slowly you start to realize how much you enjoy the warmth of the conversation, the feeling of home weaving in and out of words. Finally, you are home, and you don’t even bother with the mechanics.
It’s only later when you’re sitting on an empty train at midnight, drawing closer to tomorrow, that you think about time and wonder what that feeling was that was there on that table tonight that seems to be missing at times from a meal at Applebee’s with the Americans.