The door clicked open, and I stood dazed in the corridor, hand grazing the handle I hand pulled.

Finally home. Exiting, right?

I scanned the simple apartment, examining the dust that had gathered in the year I had been gone for. I felt a smile inch across my face.

It was a humble flat, nothing special but it felt good to back in it. It may not have looked like much, but it meant a lot.

This is where I studied for my degree. This is where I spent late nights cramming.

Now my gap year was over, and I was back to the mundane life of a university student.

The wonderful ordinary.

I would have thrown myself onto my tattered couch, if not for the exhaustion. Instead I pitifully collapsed onto it, dropping my bags just in-front of the door. I missed this couch. I missed the smell of next doors beer and the sounds of their drunken songs. I missed all of it.

I don’t regret travelling the world, not one bit, but it has made me appreciate the wonders of being home. Feeling safe.

I took a quick nap before I began to unpack my luggage. I had managed to acquire a tourists magnet from each place I visited; France, Germany, Norway, Poland then Turkey, Lebanon, Egypt, all the way to India, China and Vietnam, finally a long flight to Chile, Brazil and Honduras.

I made sure to steer clear of the US, but I stopped in Canada for a bit (sadly failed to obtain a magnet).

I carefully arranged them on my fridge, taking the time to organise them into alphabetical, geographical and than finally settling on the order I visited each in.

Home felt close for the first time in a year, but I would still have to get used to my ragged decor as apposed to the pristine holiday housing.

I don’t know why, or remember how long for, but I started to tear up. I allowed the water to roll down my cheeks, with a peaceful delicate smile painted on my sunburnt face.