If there is something that I hate, it’s leaving. I hate goodbyes. I don’t say goodbye. I don’t want to feel that I am leaving someone or something behind. I won’t. I refuse. And yet, I say goodbye all the time and I leave continually. It kind of feels like my role to leave the lives and relationships that I built up. But I don’t actually enjoy it. I just really want to go home and stay there.
Don’t get me wrong, I love living in new places and trying new things. I love the adventures, the new friends, the learning experiences. However, it takes a toll. Last year, I said goodbye to a friend who I will probably never see again and instead of saying goodbye or good luck, I said I’ll see you around soon enough. So when I leave, I pretend it’s not happening.
But you can never pretend that you have left somewhere when you arrive to the new place. And then I feel ill and sad. Today, I left my parents in Sweden to return to France. It really hit me that my year in France is almost over, but this means not only the end of living in France, it means the end of living in Europe until I graduate. This really upsets me. My trip in Sweden will probably be my last time at home, there, for about a year. Home is four places for me right now: England, Sweden, Paris and Boston. But you can’t have four homes at once, you will always be pulled between those places. Especially when you have people you love in all of those places. The tug between the places is breaking my heart and I don’t know how long I can deal with it anymore. So in many ways, I am very excited to graduate in a year’s time, even if it’s really looking far ahead of time. Finally then, I can come home and stay there (with some travelling during holidays of course).