With less than one week until I leave, the excitement I have felt for months has begun to turn to nerves. I’m nervous about getting lost, about flying on my own, about forgetting something, losing something, missing something. With five days left, I still have not started packing and still need to get a few things (like a much-needed raincoat), but as I always say: it’ll get done. I’m not entirely sure how or when, but it will.
This past weekend, I said a final goodbye to all of my friends from college who had just finished their first week back. It was an incredibly perfect weekend and, while it was nice to see them, I found it nearly impossible to leave. I cried for most of my three hour drive home, and wished to myself that I was not going abroad, and could just stay at Gettysburg. That campus and those people are my home and family, and knowing it will be so long until I see them again is heartbreaking. Everyone wished me luck, telling me I will have an amazing time, but a part of me thinks that will be impossible to do without them there with me.
On the bright side, my best friend from high school is also studying in Melbourne this spring, so having my partner in crime by my side will make dealing with not being with my college friends, my family, my dog, and my boyfriend bearable.
As my flight out quickly approaches, the sadness of leaving all of my people behind is growing, the nerves are heightening, and my excitement has been clouded. I just keep telling myself it will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, one that will be worth the difficulty of leaving everyone I love behind, one that will help me grow in ways I cannot even imagine, and that I will be better off because of it. This, at least, is my hope.