Water under the bridge PT3

Iowa was nice.  It was nice to see my family.  My dad did a ton of traveling for work while I was growing up and he had a desk job now, so it was a new dynamic.  I had a larger town to explore and I loved college at UNI, but something was still off.  I was depressed more and more every day because I felt so…lost in the world.  I just couldn’t find my home.

I enrolled in the military later that spring and went to a base outside of Atlanta for training.  I had a cyst develop on my wrist that the military deemed a “pre-existing condition” and I was medically discharged.  Rather than journeying around the world on Uncle Sam’s dime, I was sent home to Iowa. 

I went back to school that fall and changed from an education major to a communications major.  I dated, I had relationships, and I started a non-school-sponsored International Students Club.  I met interesting people, I learned about their home cities, and it only made me miss Minnesota more. 

One year after coming back to Iowa, I left again…