On January the 14th the day had finally come. I had packed all my stuff into my backpack and was ready to set sights on Sevilla. My mother drove me to the airport and waved a final goodbye as I went through the security at the airport. It had been a difficult goodbye, more so for my mother than for me, at least at that time. I had planned this trip for a while and knew that it will always be hard to say goodbye to your loved ones even though you will see them soon enough. My own anxiety didn't kick in before my layover in Madrid. I suddenly realized how far away I was from everyone I knew and started to contemplate if this actually was what I wanted. My habit of shying away from situations I didn't like became more apparent, and this was probably the closest I came to not completing the trip. The year before I had dropped out of the Norwegian military after only a couple of days there, and I knew that I was able to find an excuse to not go through with my plans. Luckily I hoppe...
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