Saying goodbye
The departure from Sydney is quickly nearing. Less than two weeks before we are on the plane to Bangkok and this time will be gone before we know it. This part, the part right before you leave when you're saying goodbye to friends--this is the absolute hardest part.
I hate goodbyes. No doubt that anyone reading this I've had to say goodbye to for a very long period, so you might be aware that when I say goodbye I try to detach. I don't really want to face the fact that I won't see you for an unspecified period of time. In fact, I really don't even want to write about this much because this is turning out to be harder than I thought and I want to zone out and watch a few episodes of New Girl to take my mind away from the fact that I'm saying goodbye to people every single day. So of course this aversion means that it's probably best for my own personal growth to just get on with it and do it anyway. It's usually the things I try to avoid or am really afraid of that will help me grow the most. So here goes.
I've been meeting up with all of my friends around the city, having brunches, dinners and drinks realizing that this period in my life is rapidly coming to an end. It's not been the easiest phase of my life, to be sure, but I have been lucky enough to come across some beautiful people during my time here. And it's hard to face the fact that I won't be seeing these faces on a regular basis. The first goodbye was a few weeks ago when a dear friend who lives around the corner left to go on holidays, and who won't return before we leave. No more taco Wednesdays. No more gluten-free baking together. No more bike rides. No more living around the corner from each other, no more coffees, no more, no more, no more. I did a quick goodbye hug, we walked away from each other to our separate homes, and I started crying. Goodbye cry number one.
On Friday night I met up with the Geneva crew to have our first reunion post-Geneva, and also for me to say goodbye to these girls that I just had an intense experience with, who I would no doubt meet up with regularly and build lasting friendships with if I was still here. And I feel regret that I've just found this group of girls that are passionate about social justice and equality, where when we meet up for dinner we talk about the horrendous new asylum seeker policy and I learn far more than I would ever have learned without listening to the knowledge and experience they each bring to the table. We discuss serious issues over dinner, and I realize what a wonderful group of people I'm saying goodbye to. (And it must be said that this is a goodbye for now. Not forever, and we don't know what our future holds, but living somewhere "permanently" isn't something I contemplating right now. Nor do I think it's appropriate when your partner is from another country. I'm open to the opportunities life may bring.). I'm also sad to say goodbye to the other new friends we made in Geneva that live in Melbourne, people I hope I can continue learning from and that I hope my path crosses with again in the future. Something so new to farewell.
We also said goodbye to our new friends that we made in Antarctica earlier this year, gorgeous people that I so enjoyed becoming acquainted with. Also friendships that will somehow become unrequited.
We said semi-goodbyes to friends that we've also just begun deepening our friendships with. A gorgeous couple we were introduced to through another friend (another goodbye), another American/Australian couple who are also talking about moving to the states in a year or two with their two year-old daughter who's so recently taken a shine to Marcus. A good, good family that I am so happy to count amongst my friends and sad to leave. We know we'll stay in touch and cross paths and see each other in both countries, which is really exciting. But we won't celebrate Thanksgiving in our place at Balmain again, or have pre-xmas dinners or any other dinners for quite a while.
This is such a strange process to me because I thought I was so ready to go. And I am. I'm pretty excited to go home. But I didn't realize how hard it would be to say goodbye. I don't think I was actually aware of the amount and depth of love that exists between me and these people. It's not something you pay attention to over coffee or dinner, necessarily, but all of a sudden I'm feeling a rush of awareness, emotion and sadness about leaving. And let's not even talk about Marcus's friends' reaction to this. I don't know if they didn't really believe we were going or if our timetable was much sooner than they expected, but wow. I've seen moments of devastation about Marcus leaving, which is also hard to see.
Last night we had our farewell. A last-minute affair that we threw together a week ago, whose date was uncertain in the midst of this moving and shaking. We spent the evening with friends at a bar in Luna Park, overlooking the city with its iconically beautiful opera house and bridge, and where I could espy the pier of my old workplace. Beautiful, perfect spot that luckily was crowded enough to not seem sparse, but empty enough to not be jostled or have to fight for the spot with the view. We chatted, talking about the upcoming transition, jumping from conversation to conversation as people came and left, spending some wonderful time with some of our favorite people. Cried a little bit at the beginning, speaking with yet another dear friend whose life has also been full of transition lately and who I hadn't caught up with in months, but who I adore, one of my first friends in the city. But after that, managed to keep calm and just enjoy conversation, without feeling the emotion of farewell. I finally left around 2:30am, my eyes sticky with emotion and exhaustion. I tried my detached goodbyes, which worked tolerably well, until I got to one of Marcus's dearest friends. As we went in for the hug, he started crying. I've never seen one of these boys cry, and it got to me. Of course, then I cried and had to leave.
I said goodbye to two more friends today, but managed to slightly shrug it off with a, "I'll see you in three months," as I've said so much in the past two days to lessen the blow. Spending time with these two girls is like spending time with my sisters. They just get it. And we didn't spend nearly as much time together as I would have liked, but we spent the day talking, eating, bowling...yes, bowling. :) So easy. And also hard to know I won't get to hear their work updates, family updates, school updates and all of the other updates regularly anymore. I'm really going to have to get better at being in touch, and not just via blog and facebook....
Here I sit, in our shell of our apartment that's mostly empty after selling most of our stuff and moving it out yesterday. Our lounge room is empty and echoey. Our kitchen has no refrigerator anymore and let's face it, we've eaten out six nights out of seven for the past few weeks. We might be home for dinner one or two evenings this week. Right, the ones where we're moving the rest of our stuff out. The only piece of furniture that remains is our mattress. Two empty boxes serve as nightstands, and we watch movies off our hard drive on the laptop, in bed. Except tonight. Marcus is out saying farewell to another friend and I'm sitting here. Processing. Crying. Feeling the conflict of emotions, sorrow, excitement, regret, adventure, happiness to be leaving and sadness to be leaving. This is all very normal and natural and I won't fight the emotions. I'll let them come, have their place, and pass along as they always do. Our current life is changing. It will never be this way again, which is both terrifying and wonderful. It's all a bit overwhelming, though.
Two more weeks.
I hate goodbyes. No doubt that anyone reading this I've had to say goodbye to for a very long period, so you might be aware that when I say goodbye I try to detach. I don't really want to face the fact that I won't see you for an unspecified period of time. In fact, I really don't even want to write about this much because this is turning out to be harder than I thought and I want to zone out and watch a few episodes of New Girl to take my mind away from the fact that I'm saying goodbye to people every single day. So of course this aversion means that it's probably best for my own personal growth to just get on with it and do it anyway. It's usually the things I try to avoid or am really afraid of that will help me grow the most. So here goes.
I've been meeting up with all of my friends around the city, having brunches, dinners and drinks realizing that this period in my life is rapidly coming to an end. It's not been the easiest phase of my life, to be sure, but I have been lucky enough to come across some beautiful people during my time here. And it's hard to face the fact that I won't be seeing these faces on a regular basis. The first goodbye was a few weeks ago when a dear friend who lives around the corner left to go on holidays, and who won't return before we leave. No more taco Wednesdays. No more gluten-free baking together. No more bike rides. No more living around the corner from each other, no more coffees, no more, no more, no more. I did a quick goodbye hug, we walked away from each other to our separate homes, and I started crying. Goodbye cry number one.
On Friday night I met up with the Geneva crew to have our first reunion post-Geneva, and also for me to say goodbye to these girls that I just had an intense experience with, who I would no doubt meet up with regularly and build lasting friendships with if I was still here. And I feel regret that I've just found this group of girls that are passionate about social justice and equality, where when we meet up for dinner we talk about the horrendous new asylum seeker policy and I learn far more than I would ever have learned without listening to the knowledge and experience they each bring to the table. We discuss serious issues over dinner, and I realize what a wonderful group of people I'm saying goodbye to. (And it must be said that this is a goodbye for now. Not forever, and we don't know what our future holds, but living somewhere "permanently" isn't something I contemplating right now. Nor do I think it's appropriate when your partner is from another country. I'm open to the opportunities life may bring.). I'm also sad to say goodbye to the other new friends we made in Geneva that live in Melbourne, people I hope I can continue learning from and that I hope my path crosses with again in the future. Something so new to farewell.
We also said goodbye to our new friends that we made in Antarctica earlier this year, gorgeous people that I so enjoyed becoming acquainted with. Also friendships that will somehow become unrequited.
We said semi-goodbyes to friends that we've also just begun deepening our friendships with. A gorgeous couple we were introduced to through another friend (another goodbye), another American/Australian couple who are also talking about moving to the states in a year or two with their two year-old daughter who's so recently taken a shine to Marcus. A good, good family that I am so happy to count amongst my friends and sad to leave. We know we'll stay in touch and cross paths and see each other in both countries, which is really exciting. But we won't celebrate Thanksgiving in our place at Balmain again, or have pre-xmas dinners or any other dinners for quite a while.
This is such a strange process to me because I thought I was so ready to go. And I am. I'm pretty excited to go home. But I didn't realize how hard it would be to say goodbye. I don't think I was actually aware of the amount and depth of love that exists between me and these people. It's not something you pay attention to over coffee or dinner, necessarily, but all of a sudden I'm feeling a rush of awareness, emotion and sadness about leaving. And let's not even talk about Marcus's friends' reaction to this. I don't know if they didn't really believe we were going or if our timetable was much sooner than they expected, but wow. I've seen moments of devastation about Marcus leaving, which is also hard to see.
Last night we had our farewell. A last-minute affair that we threw together a week ago, whose date was uncertain in the midst of this moving and shaking. We spent the evening with friends at a bar in Luna Park, overlooking the city with its iconically beautiful opera house and bridge, and where I could espy the pier of my old workplace. Beautiful, perfect spot that luckily was crowded enough to not seem sparse, but empty enough to not be jostled or have to fight for the spot with the view. We chatted, talking about the upcoming transition, jumping from conversation to conversation as people came and left, spending some wonderful time with some of our favorite people. Cried a little bit at the beginning, speaking with yet another dear friend whose life has also been full of transition lately and who I hadn't caught up with in months, but who I adore, one of my first friends in the city. But after that, managed to keep calm and just enjoy conversation, without feeling the emotion of farewell. I finally left around 2:30am, my eyes sticky with emotion and exhaustion. I tried my detached goodbyes, which worked tolerably well, until I got to one of Marcus's dearest friends. As we went in for the hug, he started crying. I've never seen one of these boys cry, and it got to me. Of course, then I cried and had to leave.
I said goodbye to two more friends today, but managed to slightly shrug it off with a, "I'll see you in three months," as I've said so much in the past two days to lessen the blow. Spending time with these two girls is like spending time with my sisters. They just get it. And we didn't spend nearly as much time together as I would have liked, but we spent the day talking, eating, bowling...yes, bowling. :) So easy. And also hard to know I won't get to hear their work updates, family updates, school updates and all of the other updates regularly anymore. I'm really going to have to get better at being in touch, and not just via blog and facebook....
Here I sit, in our shell of our apartment that's mostly empty after selling most of our stuff and moving it out yesterday. Our lounge room is empty and echoey. Our kitchen has no refrigerator anymore and let's face it, we've eaten out six nights out of seven for the past few weeks. We might be home for dinner one or two evenings this week. Right, the ones where we're moving the rest of our stuff out. The only piece of furniture that remains is our mattress. Two empty boxes serve as nightstands, and we watch movies off our hard drive on the laptop, in bed. Except tonight. Marcus is out saying farewell to another friend and I'm sitting here. Processing. Crying. Feeling the conflict of emotions, sorrow, excitement, regret, adventure, happiness to be leaving and sadness to be leaving. This is all very normal and natural and I won't fight the emotions. I'll let them come, have their place, and pass along as they always do. Our current life is changing. It will never be this way again, which is both terrifying and wonderful. It's all a bit overwhelming, though.
Two more weeks.
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