Nostalgia

I've been feeling sporadically nostalgic lately. In three months, I'll be finishing up my second degree, but sometimes I feel like I'm betraying the historian in me by becoming a librarian. Being a historian isn't anything I could expect to make a living of, but for six years I lived and breathed history, and in a sense I have the feeling I'm now saying goodbye to it.
The six years studying history in Åbo were, in many ways, the clichéd years of my life. Coming from a small town, where I never felt liked or accepted, being introduced to a group of people who shared my main interest was a real eye opener. For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by people who liked me and who wanted to be my friends. And I loved every minute of it. Now, two years after I left Åbo, I miss it terribly. I'm very happy with my life, and don't want to imagine life without my beloved husband, but at the same time I miss the friends I made at the Department of History in Åbo. The friends I thought, at the time, would remain mine for the rest of my life. Of course relationships would have changed, even if I'd stayed, but the distance of being in another country is a strain that even the most solid of friendships won't survive forever. That is something I will have to accept.