the closer i get to june and the ending of my year abroad the more frequent and violent my vacillations between depression and apathy become.
one on hand, i feel like i’m not making the most of my time here, and that no matter what i do, what i say, it will never be enough, and i’ll leave with regrets.
on the other hand, i feel like i shouldn’t care because i’m leaving all of this behind anyway.
sometimes i either want more time or to leave right now. i can’t stand this WAITING. waiting to say goodbye. it’s almost worst than actually saying it.
it’s so tempting to just separate myself and propel my thoughts and hopes into the future, where everything inevitably looks brighter and happier because it hasn’t happened yet and is therefore inundated with possibility. but i have to keep reminding myself to stay in this present moment, right here. right here. it was so easy about a month ago. what happened?
the problem with this kind of temporal existence is you lose all sense of your real self and just act on instinct, pure emotion. life is pretend, in a way. i feel like i’m acting in some sort of bizarre, thousand-act play. with no scripts, no cues, no direction.
but i suppose life is supposed to be unscripted anyway. what happens when we leave here? is there any possible way for us to fit neatly back into our old lives? just how fake is all of this? what has this year done to me?