Leaving

Leaving. One word. Yet the power it holds; contains is limitless; never ending. It can be the turning over of a new leaf; the leaving behind of the old. It can consist of exiting a life of fear and entering one of comfort. It could mean letting go of the love of your life, because although it may be the hardest thing to do, it may just be the right thing. The one thing about leaving that always rings true is that it's scary. It doesn't matter if you're leaving something good behind or something full of hurt and brokedness. It will still remain scary. Yet, despite that we all have to do it at some point in our lives. We all feel that pit in our stomaches that resonates throughout our entire bodies-yet in the end we push through that and make our exit. We Leave.

One week and counting...

At this point I have about a week left, or perhaps only six days, I'm not sure. Regardless, that is very little time, so little that I don't even know what to do with it. My bags are packed so that is one less area I need to spend my time-but now what? How do I decide how to slice and dice my time and dish it out? How do I want to leave this place?what last experiences would I like to have before I go? I don't know. Each day I wake up with the intention of getting so much done, of getting a few "goodbyes" out of the way, of seeing certain places for the last time, and despite the fact that I have the best of intentions I end the day early and without a fraction of what I wanted to do accomplished. It is a rather unsettling and sickening feeling that I can't seem to shake. I need to shake it, some way, somehow.

Climbing back up from the meltdown...

I recently have become aware of how much I overestimated myself, of the fact that I'm not nearly as strong as I had previously thought. I thought that leaving was going to be fairly easy, that I was going to handle it well, and throughout most of Summer I did. Or i suppose I just didn't think about it so it wasn't real. It hit me though, and when it did it hit hard. I stopped talking to people, stopped answering my phone and spent a mass majority of my time either crying or sleeping. I am however at the tail end of that and find it hard to cry these days. I think perhaps I cried so much that I'm just numb to it anymore, which maybe is a good thing. I've heard from my host family now, and am pretty much packed and ready to go, and I think I'm dealing, or at least handling leaving. It is going to be so good for me, and I am going to grow and learn and experience so much. Despite the fact that I'm going into something entirely unknown, I think I'm ready. Ready as I'll ever be.