Here.

Getting where we want in life isn't always easy. Getting where we want to be often has its share of obstacles. And as I awoke at 3:30AM to shower and ensure I was at the train station in time, I knew whatever Italy had up her sleeve to keep me from getting back to Spain just wasn't going to work. No crooks. No pickpockets. No assanine train officials that wanted to threaten me with arrest. No nothing was going to stop me. I put on my tall, hard-toe boots for the journey just in case someone wanted to mess with me. Trust me, no idiotic Italian wanted to mess with me this morning. I was a woman on a mission.

Other than a cab-driver overcharging me, a drunk wanting to hassle me at the train station, and the gross seats on the train, my trip to Rome was just lovely.

On the train to the airport, I met a fellow American who had her passport stolen in Florence and was freaking out as she was flying back to Newark in two hours. I helped her sort out her mess, got a copy of her passport faxed to the airport, and got her to her gate on time.

As I waited at the gate for my own flight, I thought about the past 24-hours that led me to sitting in the Rome airport (again), returning to Sevilla (again). I thought about the mental struggle to call Saber. I thought about the struggle Italy had been. I thought about the struggle New York can be. I thought about men in New York and the empty struggle that can be as well. And I thought about the simple existence I lead in Sevilla. The easiness of the people. The easiness of life. The struggle-free-ness of it all. It dawned on me, that life is not to be one constant stuggle. We make it that with the things we put on ourselves. The decisions we make of the things we think we "should" do. The people we "should" know. The career we "should" have. The places we "should" be. The people we "should" be with. So many "shoulds".

But what about what we want?

When I started on my journey I was bound and determined to see three new countries -- Spain, Italy and Greece. Spain I loved. Italy, not so much. Greece was a wait-and-see situation. Three months ago, I would be saying to myself right now "you should go to Greece, you should persevere, you should deal with Italy." And why? Because I said I would? Because I feel that I "should"? And so what if I did those things, what would I have then? A few more gorgeous photos of beautiful places? Static images of camera-made moments that any postcard could do better? My trip wasn't about being static. It was about living. It was about following my own intuition to find my own personal plane of happiness. It was about knowing what I wanted, where I wanted to be. And then doing my damndest to get there. It was about finding the "here" I wanted, and then just "being here".

As I boarded the plane, I made a vow to myself to not get so bogged down in complicated measures again. Really feel with my soul, for the decisions I make in the most sincere part of me are not complicated. They are easy. They are freeing. They are simple.

As the plane took off I closed my eyes and thought how happy I was to be going back to the place I loved most. And when I opened my eyes again, there I was. I was back to 'here'.