“Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. To love is to be vulnerable.” – C.S. Lewis.

My brother is in Ecuador at the moment. I wish I was in Ecuador with him. I am jealous. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I could be just happy for him, rather than happy and jealous.

Sigh. I miss my friends in Ecuador so much it hurts. It’s mostly a dull ache. Constant. Sometimes I forget it is there. But sometimes the pain surprises me, catches me off guard...even now, after all this time. Like when I see a photograph, or hear a song, or remember a joke. It comes in a sudden overwhelming surge of emotion, and like being punched unsuspectingly in the stomach, my breath catches and I feel I will throw up. It makes me feel sick. Tears fall.

Most people don’t understand. I wouldn’t have understood either, before, before I lived there for so long, before I knew what it was like to love other people so deeply.

I don’t talk much about Ecuador. I try not to think about it. I try so hard to find the balance between my heart and living in the present. I don't talk much about Ecuador. I feel defeated when I try, because I am not eloquent enough to convey the depth of any of this.

Les extraño. Más que les saben.