I was in Venezuela for the past nine days. I re-lived a lot of my childhood. I realized I have the bravest mother in the world, and without a doubt the most caring dad. And that through all the trials my family has been through in the past couple months, getting through this with my mom, won’t be a problem at all. God is in control. I hung out with friends I hadn’t seen in years. I spent time walking down streets I use to walk down everyday, whether running errands, or going down to the basketball court to hang out with my friends. I saw that a lot of things have changed, like streets, buildings, and people. A friend I had a lot of affection for, avoided me all week, because she has a new boyfriend. Other friends told me that they would make sure they would get in touch with me so we could hang out, and they never did. But I also realized, that my best friends in the world still live in Venezuela. We went downtown, to the mall, on late night ice cream runs, we grilled out, talked for hours. I realized that most people in the US, who have told me that they care about me, probably don’t. People who will put up with me, and be there for me no matter what I’m going through, in the US are few and far between. I’ve come to the realization that I wish I was still home, in Venezuela.