The eve of the eve

I sit here in Northern Ireland on the eve of the eve of returning to the USA.  I had a moment yesterday where I really was not sure where in the world I was.  I had walked through Belfast to visit with a friend from Czech and we discussed out time in Spain quite a bit during the conversation.  We then reminisced of the times we had known each other at Camp in NH, even looking at pictures from then!
Spain.  Our time in Spain is done.  I'm not happy; I'm not sad.  It was a season.  A time in a place.  But now its over.  Does it 'make sense' yet?  Does it matter?  We listened, and went.  Now we will return to the states with a few summer plans; plans of searching and seeking.  But then ?  In a few months there will be another eve of an eve to something.  The next place to go.  Will it 'make sense'?  I'm not sure; but we will go.  And now I know it will be okay.  We are still Michael & Denise; Rosalia, Anthony and Salvatore.  The Bondi 5.  And that I get to take anywhere in the world with me.