As I literally have five minutes before my Italian class in the other room begins, I wanted to remember this story that popped into my head as I was walking here, looking at the Duomo.
I had said before that sometimes saying the words and thinking through what you are actually saying are two different things. This applies to me coming to Florence. When I knew I had to decide between Rome and Florence, I thought back to my first trip during high school. Based on high school memories, I didn't like Rome too much, it was too big. All I remembered from Florence was that I was grumpy that day, but the Duomo was the biggest, most beautiful building I had ever been next to. I remember the night before my trip, lying in my bed thinking, I hope everything works out well.
Now, months later, as my weeks disappear, I realize it really did. I can't believe this trip is already almost over. I remember dreaming of what this trip would be like, and now I have memories instead of dreams. I definitely had the time of my life.