I'm happy to be going home, but at the same time, I'm going to miss some things about this place and the people I've met here.
Official finals started yesterday; people are going to begin leaving, one by one, or in small groups, to the airport where we'll say goodbye for the last time. I myself have less than 72 hours remaining. People will be helping us carry all our stuff the airport. Funny how I tried so hard not to accumulate boxes of momentos, I don't have that much to take home physically. Just a whirlwind of memories and friends whom I would give anything to have the money to fly across the world to see again.
My last few days are going to be a blur of tests, papers, packing, a little weeping, scurrying to a few last places to take care of bank stuff, postage stuff, and buying last minute presents. No time to relax, enjoy sleeping in my futon for just a few more hours, chilling at the restaurants I frequented. I can't call myself a gaijin resident anymore, because my time-clock isn't regulated by living here anymore, but by my responsibilities to get ready to leave and go to my real home, even though I don't really have a home in the States anymore anyway.
Why is it that I associate the real world and life with responsibilities and the time I've had in Japan as something very freeing of all worldly ties that have kept me depressed, frustrated, angry?
Each night that passes, I have to say goodbye two or three times to certain people, just in case I miss them before they go, miss the chance to bring to a close the laughs, the night-time chats, the tales of homelands and lives that weren't brought with them. Sometimes the goodbyes are repeated each day, a precaution, a just-in-case, an "I wish this could last just a bit longer".