This happens every time a trip to Sweden is approaching... I start dreaming about home; about my family, my friends, and all the familiar places that brings me comfort and joy. And when I wake up there is a big hole in my stomach; a wistful hunger that breakfast won't solve.
What's annoying is that I'm really perfectly happy over here. I have a great job, fantastic friends and a wonderful extended family. It's just that when the Old Country keeps messing with my subconscious I have to struggle really hard not to bury myself in uncontrollable longing and negative thought patterns. (Not to mention self-pity...)
Ah, well. I'll just keep repeating the mantra that usually brings me solace in times of gloom and grief: This too shall pass.
It will, I'm sure.