I've been struggling with an odd kind of loneliness.
Come Monday, I only have ten weeks left in Illinois. Ten. The realization of how short my time really is smacked me in the face this last Monday. Time is running out. I began goodbye letters this week. My heart already switched from "living in Illinois" to "saying goodbye to Illinois." I feel hesitant to invest too much in relationships that aren't already fairly close to me. How could I add more to the list of goodbyes? My brain silently tags events as "lasts" and I'm realizing that this is all happening automatically.
Every year in high school, come May I'd have my goodbye letters written out and a list of people in my head I knew I'd probably never be seeing again. I was ready to transition into occasional catch-ups, but mostly being notified through Facebook on how they were doing. I was ready to now have a friend in Oklahoma, California or Europe.
Senior year, I was bracing myself for too many goodbyes way back in January. Everything was a last. Everything. But everyone around me was automatically switching into transition/goodbye mode. All of my friends were wrestling with the idea of turning best friends into long-distance friends; some were trying to wrap their minds around the idea of home when their family was moving away from "home." We all handled it differently; we had learned to cope in different ways. But it wasn't abnormal for someone (usually me!) to bring up goodbyes, transitions and leaving. And then everyone could relate.
But how do I process this transition occurring within me when my peers aren't on the same mindset... at all? My friends my age still have a year and a half left of college. My senior friends still have a semester and are on a job hunt now. My married/engaged friends are mostly out of college and know where they'll be living. I know I'll be in Canada. The country. No idea what province or city. Who knows how long the paperwork process will take; I can't worry about job searches now.
I used to say that I rather leave than be left.
But I think I rather we all leave... than be the only one leaving.
I want to promise that I'll come visit. But I won't. By the time I can come back to Champaign to visit, most of my friends will be gone and graduated.
I want to promise that we'll run into each other... in Illinois?
I want to say I'll miss everyone... but how many more people can I make room for in my heart to miss?
But I have come to love and be attached to people and places here in Illinois more than I was expecting. Saying goodbye will sting-- no, actually... it will hurt.
And this odd kind of loneliness comes from not knowing how to process it all or with whom. No, its not a huge deal. No, its not the end of the world. Yes, it is a First World problem.
But it still... hurts.
Come Monday, I only have ten weeks left in Illinois. Ten. The realization of how short my time really is smacked me in the face this last Monday. Time is running out. I began goodbye letters this week. My heart already switched from "living in Illinois" to "saying goodbye to Illinois." I feel hesitant to invest too much in relationships that aren't already fairly close to me. How could I add more to the list of goodbyes? My brain silently tags events as "lasts" and I'm realizing that this is all happening automatically.
Every year in high school, come May I'd have my goodbye letters written out and a list of people in my head I knew I'd probably never be seeing again. I was ready to transition into occasional catch-ups, but mostly being notified through Facebook on how they were doing. I was ready to now have a friend in Oklahoma, California or Europe.
Senior year, I was bracing myself for too many goodbyes way back in January. Everything was a last. Everything. But everyone around me was automatically switching into transition/goodbye mode. All of my friends were wrestling with the idea of turning best friends into long-distance friends; some were trying to wrap their minds around the idea of home when their family was moving away from "home." We all handled it differently; we had learned to cope in different ways. But it wasn't abnormal for someone (usually me!) to bring up goodbyes, transitions and leaving. And then everyone could relate.
But how do I process this transition occurring within me when my peers aren't on the same mindset... at all? My friends my age still have a year and a half left of college. My senior friends still have a semester and are on a job hunt now. My married/engaged friends are mostly out of college and know where they'll be living. I know I'll be in Canada. The country. No idea what province or city. Who knows how long the paperwork process will take; I can't worry about job searches now.
I used to say that I rather leave than be left.
But I think I rather we all leave... than be the only one leaving.
I want to promise that I'll come visit. But I won't. By the time I can come back to Champaign to visit, most of my friends will be gone and graduated.
I want to promise that we'll run into each other... in Illinois?
I want to say I'll miss everyone... but how many more people can I make room for in my heart to miss?
But I have come to love and be attached to people and places here in Illinois more than I was expecting. Saying goodbye will sting-- no, actually... it will hurt.
And this odd kind of loneliness comes from not knowing how to process it all or with whom. No, its not a huge deal. No, its not the end of the world. Yes, it is a First World problem.
But it still... hurts.
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