Maybe it's a second home.

Screeching railed through the underground tunnel, assaulting my ears. A turquoise and white metro pulled to a stop underneath white tiles and fluorescent lights. Tugged and shoved, throngs of bodies filed either in or out of the doors, racing to the seats. The girls and I slid quickly onto the bench, sighing.
"Everything hurts," Marie complained, stretching slightly.
"Stimmt," I agreed, feeling aching thighs and shoulders.
All of us sat back, just enjoying the act of sitting and listening to the voices around us. Snippets of conversation, mostly in French, floated in and out of ears. It was odd how foreign France seemed. It's only one few-hour-car-ride away from Germany, but it seemed like an entire world. The train was slowing to the next stop and people stood up to crowd around empty doors. The three of us sat still, relaxing. "...links einsteigen.." said a voice, reaching our ears above the rattle of emptying metro cars, senseless chatter and opening doors. All of us turned and looked at each other, wide-eyed.
"Something I understand!" I exclaimed
"I know! I missed it," Erica agreed.
"It's weird how it's become so familiar--almost normal," Marie observed.
The three of us nodded, agreeing. Two words, in German, made all of us feel more at ease, as if we weren't in the abnormal. French had filled our ears for only a mere day, and already we had started feeling as outsiders. "Despite the fact that I still can't understand or say everything in German, I know that I've definitely improved. It's so much easier now than when we first got here."
They both nodded. "Genau, we aren't like tourists there."
We all nodded, agreeing silently. Germany had become something of more than just a place to visit or a vacation. It was a part of life, and not just the touristy 'I went there for a weekend that one time back in the day'. A place that could never replace home, but more than a couple weeks and a keychain brought home as a souvenir. We stood up from our seat as the metro slowed at the next stop, embarking on the next small adventure during a touristy, weekend trip to Paris. Two days later, we hopped in a car and rode six hours back to Dortmund. All thanking God that we had a real bed, and a place we thought of as home. Cause really--hostel beds hurt, traveling is exhausting, and road trips in a cramped car are slightly overrated.