How it Feels to Start Leaving

I actually wrote this post yesterday while I was in the car on the way to D.C. but I didn't have Wi-Fi so I couldn't post it until now. Enjoy!

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I didn’t think it would feel this way when I began packing, but starting to leave things feels incredibly surreal. Saying goodbye to some things feels real, but saying goodbye to some other things makes me wonder why I’m saying goodbye at all. Am I really leaving?

Steadily, over the past couple of weeks, I’ve said goodbye to my family and friends. Some of them seem to understand the situation better than I do. I’ve cried while bidding farewell to some, but not others—not because I don’t love them, but because it still feels like I’m going to see them again really soon. I can’t really be leaving, right?

Today, I finished packing. I finished cleaning my room, I ran errands, I swept the house, I did the dishes... you know, everything you do before you leave for a while. This time, though, I found myself pausing at random places throughout the morning. In a random parking lot in Dublin, I stared through my windshield at the hood of my car and the concrete before me. A thought hit me suddenly: I know how to live here. My whole life has basically been one training montage on how to live right here. Later in the morning, I paused at the threshold of my bedroom. I already slept in my bed for the last time. I soldiered on, until I realized I have to say goodbye to my house. Before I knew it, I was waving meekly to my childhood home from the car, suddenly on my way to D.C.

The funny thing is, I’m not finished leaving. I’ve said goodbye to almost everyone from home, and I said goodbye to my home itself. Today, I left my friends, family, hometown, and state. In a few days, though? I’ll be saying goodbye to much bigger things. I’ll bid my culture, my language, my country, my entire way of life farewell. I’ll leave behind things I didn’t know I’d be leaving at all.

It’s strange how some moments bring the imminent future into sharp focus—like saying goodbye to your mom, for example—and how some moments don’t phase me at all. Right now, I’m on the freeway headed to D.C. but I don’t think I’m currently capable of processing the fact that, in a few days, I’ll be on my first international flight, headed for Germany.


I guess I am really leaving, but I’ve only just started. 

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