Today in our Swedish lesson, we had to pick a photo that meant something to us out of a pile the teacher had. I picked one of a man driving in the night down the street. It was just an impulse, I didn't even think about it before my fingers already held the picture. It reminded me of leaving America and everything familiar I ever knew behind me. It filled me with the same emotions as when I left home; like I was escaping.
When it came to leaving I had to do everything I could to not think about it. If I thought too much about leaving my family and everything I knew behind, I wouldn't have been able to go through with it. I just had to do it, just act as though it were an impulse and hop on that plane and fly away. I had to picture I was just driving off into the distance, never knowing what was up ahead, but dying to find out.
That picture explained everything I had ever felt, and it made me feel like someone else maybe felt the same way I did.
It was perfect, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

You just described my feelings when I left Sweden one year ago.