It’s ridiculous how many brunches and parties I’ve been going to, to commemorate farewells. This coming weekend is our last one before everyone leaves for summer break, so it’s this frantic game to see as many people as possible, one last time. Hell, we do it during the week too. It’s truly exhausting if I’m completely honest about it. I’ve seen some people more in the past month than I saw them all year. Which is extra sad because some of the ones that are leaving have turned out to be really quite awesome and I regret not having spent more time with them before.
It’s ridiculous how different everything will be when I come back from my summer. My two best friends here will be back, thankfully. But they’ll be living at the other edge of town instead of in my apartment. (One already lives slightly far, but she would stay over most weekends.) My best work friend is staying, but some of the others I chat with will be leaving. I am not very keen to have to meet and judge how trustworthy an entire new group of people is. (It’s important that work rants don’t get back to the wrong people. And gossip flies in work places.) And I’ll have a new roommate, whom I don’t know very well, but hopefully is cool?
And it’s ridiculous that the same exact thing will happen all over again next June. I honestly believe that I will be here for a good many more years, and it’s daunting to realize that I could theoretically have to go through this so many more times. And it’s saddening to realize that people who grew up here have already gone through it so many times.
This is the land of ex-pats and it’s a very strange norm, the constantly in flux population. But so it goes, and so they go….