A friend once said that moving away from being an expat is a little like dying. The statement seemed a bit severe at the time, but now it is making more and more sense. In a very odd way, it is like you are experiencing death from both sides -- you are the one dying and having to say goodbye to your life but you are also the one that is still living and having to mourn a whole part of your life that is now empty and gone.

This week I have been saying goodbye to friends, knowing that we will never see each other again. I give away my things as fast as I can just to have one less item to deal with later. I reflect on my time here and whether I think I lived it to the fullest. I look back on where I wasted time and how I could have done things differently.

I am trying to prepare myself emotionally for closing off this part of my life and knowing that I will never have it back again, but it has been hard. I try to remember that I had these same emotions when I left Wyoming, when I left Australia and when I graduated from college. Each of those times were painful for awhile but eventually I got busy in my new life and the pain faded and I just held on to the memories. I know that this too shall pass, but it sure hurts while it is happening.