I wandered the slowly-vacated halls for the last hour until I realized it wasn’t healthy. I feel so incredibly conflicted.
I am excited to be going home and seeing family and friends.
I am so sad to not be able to see these dear people here for over a month.
I hate watching people leave.
Yet I want to be one of them.
One benefit of being a hall vagabond is that you pick up wisdom, along with free clothes and food, as you wander along. One girl described this feeling as being so scary because not only are you leaving, you aren’t sure what you are coming back to.
There will be a new roommate and new classes and a new schedule and new friends.
But I liked the old ones ever so much.
Change excites me, and it terrifies me.
Someone else described my inner turmoil to be a result of post-communal living disorder. That’s a big part of it. Going from constant communication and interaction to a more minimal level of people is unsettling.
Unsettling. That’s what this is.
Yet there is always that lining in knowing that I have wonderful people to return to. It wouldn’t hurt this much to say goodbye if I didn’t come to know and love these people so deeply.
It’s worth it.