25 days to go

*(Note: I wrote this a couple days ago. I sat on it for a while, because I am still having major difficulty finding the courage to get my personal thoughts out there. I am working on it. Thanks for reading, if you are.)

The past couples days I can’t seem to shake this strange feeling. It started when a friend of mine brought up that next Wednesday would be our last French meet-up. My stomach did a knot. It was a sad feeling mixed with excitement and nervousness. I was friends with him before, but, ironically, my leaving brought us closer together. I will miss the meetings, which originally made me so nervous I thought I could puke but that I have grown to look forward too. I love the way the sun sets on the rooftop bar, and the way everyone around me has been brought together by their love for the French language. I love that French surrounds me for a couple hours even though I have much less courage than them to speak it. I even love the crazy characters I began to grow accustomed to seeing every other Wednesday, and their hilariously quirky habits.

Right now, downstairs I can hear my mom talking about my working schedule in France.

I guess it is just that. France is all around me. My future is spilling over into my present, it is surrounding everything I am doing. This is it. I realize how this sounds, and it isn’t right. I am excited to go. I am so lucky to have this opportunity. Unlike most people who spend a year abroad; I’m going to be working, so I will be free of debt. It’s a job I couldn’t have gotten without my degree, which is another great accomplishment. Above all, this has been my dream for 6 years: since my first French class – ironically a class I only took to get the credits over with.

I want to go. I’ve wanted this forever. I want to sit in a Parisian cafe with a good book and coffee and see the Eiffel tower in the near distance. I want to walk up to my favorite view in the city, the top of the Sacré Cœur, and watch the sun set. I want to walk alongside the Seine with new people, I want to perfect this beautiful language, I was to explore the cities in France that I haven’t been, I want to eat croissants and live on my own.

Why did I have to meet so many amazing people this summer?
I could write a novel on the genuinely heart wrenching things that the people I hold dear to my heart have said to me this summer, now that they know I am leaving. The things people have done. Maybe another post, another day.

“It’s only a year,” some people say.

I guess I just feel like I don’t have enough days to squeeze everyone I love close and tell them how much I love them and gonna miss them.