I thought I was OK. I thought I was handling everything. Until I opened this note written by one of the dearest people in the world to me. It crushed me. It literally tore apart every single bit of my nonchalance. It marked the first moment I realized I was leaving, flying 2000 km in the other part of the continent. It triggered the idea that I was living the last days of life as I knew it. I admit, I cried a lot that day. But it’s a natural thing to do when you reach the end of a chapter, or at least, that’s what I was saying to myself.
I cried thinking that no matter how many times I’ll say things will not change, life has its own twisted ways of making everything different in just a couple of seconds, so I was saying good-bye to the scenario where things remained the same. Me, my family, my friends, my hometown, my world…so many things can change in a twinkling of an eye. That doesn’t necessarily mean they will, but they can, and that’s quite scary, to be honest.
I also cried thinking about the fact that we often take things, people, events and relationships for granted. And when the risk of them vanishing appears, the epiphany strikes us. I should have said ‘I love you’ more, I should have done that, I should have showed him or her how much they mean to me and so on… It’s undoubtedly saddening to acknowledge what you had only after you lost it, but at the same time I think such thoughts can guide us better in life in order to be grateful every second for what we have.
Packing my clothes was something I could have done eye folded. Packing various boxes full of kitchen accessories and room necessities was easy. But packing memories was the hard part.
I went over my fondest memories with the people I love. Such as my Saturday routine with Mum. Each week we knew we had at least 4 hours of mother&daughter quality time as we were going to Pilates and Aerial Yoga together (the lobby I had to do in order to convince her to join me was lengthily, but it was totally worth it.) We added to this routine the brunch, which we always had in a different place, as we love testing out restaurants and cafés together. I will miss these moments a lot as only now I realize how precious the time you spend with your mum is.
I will miss procrastinating work while watching a documentary with my Dad and our dog. On my way to get chocolate from the fridge while working, I was always passing near the two of them enjoying a history movie on World War II or a documentary about wild chimpanzees or sea turtles. It could have been about anything, really. Most of the time my mental to-do list magically emptied, so I was joining them until the credits, the moment when I was usually realizing how late I actually was. But I don’t regret a thing.
I’ll miss my friends like never before. Being home, going out with friends doesn’t seem like a big deal. Sometimes, weeks may go by without seeing them, but you always know they are there, just one message away and you have a night out planned. But going away, things are not so easy anymore. Teleportation is still not a thing, so no matter how badly you want to see them, you have to wait. And that’s never a nice thought. However, I hope we’ll remain at least as close as we are today, despite of the distance between us.
To all my close friends: I truly love you. It was my greatest pleasure to meet you. You have changed my life and for that I’ll be forever thankful. You have made the past years more enjoyable, more adventurous and definitely, more meaningful. I hope my presence in your life made you a happier person. Please don’t cry. We’ll see each other in no time.
I’ll also miss some small, yet important things. Such as me driving in my super car, doing karaoke with my friends or bumping into my very own house while reverse parking (unfortunately, I’m not talented towards parking my car, otherwise I could say I’m a pretty good driver). I’ll miss the feeling of independence my car offered me and the pleasure of going from place to place by my own, just me and the radio.
It will be quite a challenge for me to wake up in a room other than mine for one year. I’ll miss going to sleep while watching the stars (yes, over my head there are fluorescent stars, cliché or not, I love them to pieces), I’ll miss having so many memories glued onto my walls and in general, I’ll miss my cozy haven. My room was a part time library, a permanent art exhibit (with an easel blocking the door to open properly at times) and a constant boarding gate for flights. I hope I’ll manage to turn my University room into a similar eclectic mix.
Of course, I’ll miss some aspects of my city too. The quiet streets in green neighborhoods, the familiar scent of summer during the deserted August nights, the hidden coffee and tea shops, the walks in the park just outside my high-school, the nights out, the innocence and the naivety of the years spent in this city.
By all means, I’ll miss myself. As in the person who I was here. I’ll miss my teenage, carefree and courageous up until the point of unconscious self. All those moments when I killed the silence with my laughter, all the times I was the clumsiest and most awkward person in the room, all those moments make my day right now. Because when I add them up, I get who I am right now, which is a person I like.
But mostly I will miss the people. My people. Because I have realized that what you do is pointless if you don’t have around you the people you love.
I have to go now, I am running low on tissues!
Until next time,