Finally, I was done, and I was leaving. After sitting through my last 36 weeks of high school, it was time to leave again. I couldn’t wait to escape back to Europe. Not many people were happy about me putting off university to travel, but it had to happen. I couldn’t endure another minute of school for at least a year. I scrolled through all of the airline pages I could find, searching for a cheap flight to Denmark. Eventually I found one, a one way ticket to Copenhagen for only $714.

When the time came, my mom wrapped me up in one last hug, and she began to cry. I tried to seem sad too, but I was excited that I was getting to see Oscar and work near him after two years apart. I waved goodbye to my family, and walked through the Denver airport security.

As I found my seat on the plane, I saw that I was sitting with a few little kids which would make for a long flight. As we taxied down the runway preparing to take off, I pulled out my Danish workbook to brush up on my very limited Danish. The girl next to me (maybe 7 or 8 years old) asked me in Danish if I was flying to Copenhagen too. I held up a finger, asking her to wait just a moment while I slowly put the words together in my head. Eventually I worked out how to tell her that, yes I was going to Copenhagen too, and I was learning Danish on my way there. She giggled at the thought of me trying to learn Danish on a plane, which made me giggle too.

I practiced and practiced the whole flight. When the little girl woke up later, I asked her if she would be willing to practice with me so that I was ready when I got off the plane. She giggled again before agreeing. She was rolling in her seat laughing at my terrible American accent, but slowly she laughed less and less, so I guess I was getting better at hiding it.

I had been dreaming for months of the day that I finally reunited with Oscar. There were so many ways this could go wrong, I thought to myself, but I tried to stay positive. As I stepped off the plane I felt sick to my stomach. I was no longer sure that this had been the right idea, and I started to question everything. Did he even want me to come visit? Were things going to be like they had been exactly two years ago when he flew home from the US? Was I hoping for too much to happen?

I worked my way through customs, flashing the security guard my year long travel visa. As I grabbed my bags off of the baggage carousel, I almost collapsed, my knees felt like Jell-o. Slowly, I drug my bag out to where I met Oscar.

There he was in all of his 6’2”, blond hair and blue-eyed glory. He hadn’t changed one bit… had I? We made eye contact; it felt as if the world had stopped and we were the only two that mattered. He walked over to scoop me up in one of his bear hugs, the kind that one could never forget. He took my bag from me, and we walked out to his sleek new black Jeep. It felt like it was just yesterday that we last saw each other. We talked and laughed all the way back to his house.

As we pulled into the private drive, another wave of nerves washed over me, swallowing me up. Then he smiled... and it was as if I had been saved from the depths of the ocean. I had never met his family before, and I was nervous about my Danish.

When we walked in the house, his parents greeted me in perfect English, but I quickly replied in Danish, and everyone paused for a second. Oscar looked happily surprised. His family was patient with me, and we switched back and forth between Danish and English all night long. Finally it was time for bed, and to my surprise his parents didn’t mind if we shared a bed. I knew nothing would happen between us, but it was still a change from my strict rules back home.

The next morning after breakfast, Oscar told me he would be back in about half an hour. So I spent the morning getting to know his sisters until he came back. He wasn’t alone this time. As he walked in the house he introduced me to his… girlfriend. There it was again, that drowning feeling of being swallowed whole by the ocean. The rush of emotions trying to swallow me up again. I used all of my strength just to hold my jaw shut... holding back the tears of rage.

Had I really thought all of this time he would be waiting for me? Did I really think that this beautiful 20 year old man would want me? Of course not. I even learned Danish for a whole year prior to this stupid vacation, and for what? To add to my list of languages I spoke? I didn’t really need Danish to travel. I had had too high of hopes yet again, and I knew it the second I had stepped off of that stupid plane. Now I was stuck here for a year in the same small country as him.

Every time I saw them, I fought back the waves of tears and rage. I wanted to scream, but I managed to hold it all in until she left. Half an hour later he was back, and I had finally stopped sobbing.

“What’s wrong?”

But I couldn’t just tell him that I was jealous of his girlfriend Freja, and that I wanted him to myself. It wasn’t that simple.

“I’m fine.”

“If you don’t want to talk that’s fine, but I’ll wait. I know something is wrong.”

At the end of a week of awkward conversations, he drove me to the train station where I hugged him goodbye. I hoped to get the courage to tell him how I felt, but that would have to wait until next time.