Seven days from now I will have packed my bags and cleaned this apartment. Seven days from now I will be preparing for my last night of having to close the shutters and remember to close the bathroom window. Seven days from now I will already be lamenting what I haven't yet lost.
It's strange to now have the span of a week separating me from the United States. It seems like only yesterday was January and I was counting down the days. And now I'm still counting down but all the numbers are half-hearted and abstract.
What is it that I want of this week? Right now all I want is to get through the classes and muddle through the realization that I will leave here without any real connections to this city beyond the handful of people I've come to know.
I guess this is life. I guess this is how it happens. After all, what could I really expect from a month?
It's strange to now have the span of a week separating me from the United States. It seems like only yesterday was January and I was counting down the days. And now I'm still counting down but all the numbers are half-hearted and abstract.
What is it that I want of this week? Right now all I want is to get through the classes and muddle through the realization that I will leave here without any real connections to this city beyond the handful of people I've come to know.
I guess this is life. I guess this is how it happens. After all, what could I really expect from a month?
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