One Life One Encounter

I’ve had a tough week.
In my head, I’ve been spiraling about my Spanish skills. The weather has been gray and moody. My stomach felt off the other day. And this morning—I kind of broke down.

In my room.
Door shut.
Just frustrated.

I sat there trying to write in Spanish, and suddenly it felt like I knew nothing at all. Words I used to recognize? Gone. Grammar I practiced for hours? Slipped right through my fingers.

My brain felt heavy.
My patience felt thin.

And for a minute, I let myself sit in it—the frustration, the doubt, the little voice that said, “Why can’t you get this right?”

Some days on the road are magic. Some days are volcanoes and sunrises and new friends and confidence.

And some days look like this.
A blanket, a quiet room, and a mini-meltdown over verb conjugations.

It doesn’t mean I’m failing.
It just means I’m human.

No moral of the story today.
No silver lining.
No inspirational bow to tie it all together.

Just a hard day. And that’s allowed.

-A