I have no desire to be comfortable.
Conversations about T.V. shows, which celebrity is in rehab, break-ups and more poured into my ears at each angle at seemingly every minute of the day. I could feel the entire essence of who I am being washed away as tide after tide of conversations swept over me, through me, and carried me away from my goals.
It made me sick.
Now, 4,297 miles away, I find myself uncomfortable in Paris, France, studying at university. I'm only 18.
As a preface: I did not come here for the Eiffel Tower; I did not come here hypnotized by the charms of Paris; I did not come here to be like an intellectual straight out of a Woody Allen movie.
I am here, however, for the people.
My favourite patisserie is owned by an older French woman. I don't know her name nor does she know mine. As I order my breakfast or lunch, she updates me on world politics and the effects on major nations, consistently asks if I am well, and gives me advice for my future.
One day, after many conversations, she revealed to me that she's slowly dying of cancer. Her family will sell the patisserie when she passes to pay for the funeral, and along with her will go a part of me -- the part where I was beginning to feel comfortable again.
This is an example of one person out of many people that I have specially bonded with since I moved here.
Each day, these people reinstate in me a purpose to inform others. Everyone has a story, yes, but it's a matter of finding those that are substantial, impactful, awe-inspiring. They are the ones who deserve the loudest voices, especially those who live their whole lives without even a line in an article.
To do that, I must keep pushing myself away from my comfort zone, from any source of comfort at all.
My greatest moment of 2013 was more than moving overseas; it was meeting this unique soul and gaining insight to her life, as well as all of the others that I have been fortunate to get to know.
No longer do I find myself against the tide, but rather with it, letting it direct me into the unknown.
I am uncomfortable, but comfortably so.