Feeling super sentimental about leaving next week. I feel blessed and grateful but I can’t help clutching my heart to draw a definite line between an end and a start of different arcs. I wish not to let go of precious things first but even so, everything changes with time, just as I do. It’s inevitable that what I look to get back into will always look different next time and that’s okay.
I should already get used to this part for how short my life chapters have been chopped into, as a forever nomad. Maybe it just hits especially different with the timing coinciding with the tail end of my 20s. And youth, at least its first half(?/quarter?) seems extra bedazzling in caffeine jitters. Things are also bound to feel poignant if you’re keen on romanticizing (@ me)
Anyways, I’m watching this loop closing and I’m wary that I’ll simply be a third person in front of my own memories.
So to say, I’m still so glad that they happened at all, and I’m even happier that some actually end up a full circle. If they really close, loop they will in a perpetual rewind, which is not resistant to visits anyway. Meanwhile, we, bearing the traces of their touch, are here, reborn and thrilled to find new stories to write. Everything’s a vessel of continuation, and it’s nice that we’re evergrowing yet still recognizable in our changes. At least that’s what I’ve been pep-talking myself into, I guess. Now’s quite a proper time to lament a little, but everything’s fine. It’ll be fun.
08/09/22
