Tomorrow I put the vast majority of my possessions into storage for the next year. Friday will mark my last academic responsibilities to the U of O until I get back from Spain. Saturday will be my last riding lesson at the Eugene barn I’ve come to love so much. And, of course, shortly after I’ll be leaving my little green room in my little green house for the last time.
I’m starting to realize what the abstract concept of a “year abroad” really means, and it’s terrifying.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m still so excited and motivated and ready to get started. But the last couple days have gone by so fast…it’s scary. I’m abandoning my routine for the first time in two years (and that’s straight, by the way – I took classes all last summer). I’m leaving friends and an opportunity or two I never got to really pursue. I’m headed to a life I can’t really comprehend just yet. The realization is making my chest squeeze tight. I almost started crying in the car on the way to the barn yesterday when some sappy song came on the radio.
I’m scared my friends will forget me, that I’ll come back and be alone. I’m scared I’ll get there and realize instantly it was all a mistake and want to turn right back around. I’m scared I’ll suddenly find out I’m terrible at Spanish and fail all my classes. I’m scared there are people I’ll say goodbye to when I leave and never see again.
All this fear. All these questions. It’s probably normal right?