It Hasn’t Hit Me Yet pt. 1

It hasn’t hit met yet.

What, you may ask, hasn’t hit my yet? Oh, just the fact that in ten days I’m going to be flying halfway around the world (again), leaving my family behind (again), and beginning again this whole jetting back-and-forth life (again). Only this time, it isn’t boarding school, it’s college, and I’m supposed to have my life together at some point towards the end.

Okay, so perhaps the fact that I’m leaving again in ten days has been in the back of my mind. But as the major procrastinator I am, that’s where it’s been — just the back of my mind. I’ve realized that the past week has just flown by with friend meetups and Hart of Dixie mini marathons (don’t ask) and doggy cuddle session, when I should have been doing so many things. Doing inventory for my books. Preparing a system for who ever is going to be in charge of the sales of my books when I leave. Writing my last article. But here I am, Friday night, having just scarfed down three martabaks Ovomaltine (the second box my parents brought home this week), preparing myself for another Hart of Dixie episode before I go to bed. Not feeling worried at all. Not freaking out at all. I think the reason I am freaking out right now is because I am not freaking out over the fact that I am leaving in 10 days.

I am leaving in 10 days. I am leaving my dogs. Dogs that I have always seen just as a chore before my one year at home, but have transformed practically into family members in my eyes over the past few months. Dogs that I talk to (like legitimately have conversations with) and dogs that actually stare back at me in the eyes when I need somebody to tell me everything is going to be okay. And actually mean it. Dogs that give me hugs when I need them, and dogs that demand to be cuddled when I seem like I don’t need it, but they know I do. Dogs that love purely and genuinely and simply.

I am leaving my siblings. My brother who is erratic and talkative like no other 5th grader. I am leaving at a time he will be growing perhaps at the quickest speed…

[just realized why I’ve been avoiding writing this — because I know it will hit me when I write. Because writing always, always sheds light on the truth. Crying because it is starting to hit me, but I am going to keep going anyway]

…in his entire life. I know when I come back in six months he is going to be a head taller, I know when I come back in six months he is going to be a whole lot smarter. But in the last week, all I’ve done is slouch in front of my computer as he watched his loud Youtube videos, instead of wanting to spend quality time with him. Because going out of my room and actually making an effort to have a conversation with him would actually confirm what I have been avoiding for the past week — that we only have a little time left before I go back and I am going back and I am leaving. I am leaving. I am leaving a sweet little brother who has a golden heart, despite his required-little-brother-obligation-to-be-annoying. Who said tonight at dinner of a friend of his who is mentally challenged, “I don’t think he’s weird. I’m weird myself, so how can I say he’s weird?”

Why do I have to leave him? Why can I not be here to watch him grow up, to hear his stories of the goals he scored in his games during recess, or to listen to him coming home proudly with a good grade?

All I know is that if God had wanted me to stay another year, He would have put it in my heart to stay. Just like it was last year. But this year, I know in my heart I have to go. I know it’s the right thing to do, the next step. Do I understand it though, do I understand why I have to leave my family, yet again? Not so much sometimes, especially now.

[to be continued as I am already tearing up, and I can only handle so much sadness for one night. I hope, that when I do leave, all the sadness would have been poured out in my writing, and the goodbye won’t be so painful.]

[Who am I kidding though — goodbyes always suck.]