As if somehow the painstaking task of typing each letter on here meant there was no going back. As if somehow not saying it out loud to others would lessen the unbearable strain on my heartstrings. As if keeping it inside would put everything on hold, stop time and space, and permit me to continue blithely along in this strange, Asian, alternate reality of a life that was entirely unknown to me just two short years ago but now defines me more than any other experience in my life.
I have a vague, dream-like recollection of writing a post on here, years ago (literally), which said something about my being apprehensive about acclimating to life in Korea. Well, I acclimated, alright. And that's the understatement of my life.
It's not that I'm not happy about what's coming.
I really really am.
But that's just it.
It's coming.
Quickly.
It's like I'm traveling on a high speed train and can't stop and can't get off. But I don't really want to get off. I just want to SLOW DOWN. Make it last longer. Enjoy the scenery. But it's all rushing past in a blur and I'm starting to panic.
And honestly, will someone please explain to me how a decision can bring such incredible joy and anticipation and also gut-wrenching devastation at the same time?
Anyway, here goes:
I'm leaving Korea and returning home (for good) on 11/11.
There I've said it.
No comments:
Post a Comment