They say that “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” But what if it’s really just the mere thought of absence–of future nostalgia–that makes us begin to miss what we still have?

I love honeysuckle; I used to pick it off the bushes and eagerly taste its sweet nectar. I can remember literally filling the bib of my shirt with it [my personal honeysuckle stash] on the walk home from the bus stop, so that I could sit down in my back yard and have it all in one sitting.

This morning when I got out of the car, I was greeted by the tantalizing scent of honeysuckle and then crushed by a wave of realization: What if this is the last time I smell honeysuckle?! I don’t know; it may grow in Costa Rica (Lord knows almost anything does), but that’s not the point. Honeysuckle is my springtime. I love the spring. I was born in the spring, and I think it’s the best season of the year. Everything is fresh and green and new and colorful. And this may be my last spring ever.

Moving to Costa Rica is exciting and the absolute best thing for me. I am the first to champion the positives of Costa Rica and to tell you why I don’t like living in Virginia (or the entire USA, for that matter). It was foolish, but I never thought that I would miss this place, this country. But I know I will.

Over Memorial Day, I was remembering all previous Memorial Days. Remembering chicken on the grill, big bowls of chip and dip, and family. Memorial Day was always the “official” first weekend of spring because it was almost always warm and sunny. We always had a 3-day weekend, which is every kid’s dream. So I loved it. But there’s a big chance that I’ll never spend another Memorial Day in the States. If I choose to stay in CR forever, I could certainly visit home, but it probably won’t be for Memorial Day.

And so I sit here with honeysuckle and Memorial Day on the brain, wondering how many other things will spark twinges of sadness at the knowledge that I will miss this place. For, like a bad relationship, no matter how much we know that a place is not right for us, we somehow find ourselves falling in love with the little things. And it is the little things that I will miss.