My Metaphorical Leap-of-Faith Poster Fell Down Yesterday.

Before moving I bought a poster of a photograph called "The Spirit of Adventure," which is of a man jumping over an enormous puddle trying to get from the road to the walkway. At the time of purchase I just thought it was an interesting photo, but once I settled into my room in Canterbury I realized I could be literary and say the man and the puddle were a metaphor for me and the Atlantic Ocean. And because I am overly sentimental, and because it's in my direct line of vision when I'm lying in bed, whenever I felt upset about leaving Miami I'd look at the poster and draw strength from it. If that man thought that he could dryly make it to the sidewalk (well pavement, as the Brits say), so could I emotionally survive the move.

It's no secret that I've had the worst time of it lately, and it was proper that at the culmination of my struggle Craig would point out that it doesn't look like the man is going to make it. Suddenly the poster wasn't inspiring but a daily reminder that it was foolish of me to think I could do this. And I know this all sounds contrived and too poetic, but the only way my mind makes sense of anything anymore is through literary devices. At least I know I chose the right subject to study.

The past few weeks have been moody and sporadic, but I've just kept reminding myself that there are x amount of days until I go home and can regroup. I'd accepted that both this man and I were going to fall in the water. Then yesterday I heard a rustle as I entered my room and saw the poster hanging by its last corner. The only thing keeping it from falling completely was my drying rack with all I'd hand-washed the day before. And it just struck me because I knew it had to be significant in my metaphorical life. 9 days before I'm set to go home the Blu-Tac gods tried to send me a message-- that I am ridiculous. And that I need to get over myself.

This year has taught me a lot, mainly that I need to stop being dramatic. That man and I are not the same person. That puddle is not the Atlantic. I will make it to the pavement, dry and in one piece. I just need to remember to be brave. And I need to put more Blu-Tac on my posters.