I’m back in NYC after spending a week in Venezuela and I already want to go back. No one prepares you for the inevitable grief you go through every time you visit your home country, spend time with your family and then.... Leave. It feels like you have to section your heart into little pieces and leave them everywhere in the world where you have people you love. It’s been 14 years since I’ve been living abroad, and it never gets easier. Immigrant life, am I right?