A treadmill is dragging me whether I want it to or not. If I run the other way I will just fall off and miss everything that is to come. When I finally found the perfect spot to watch the sunset, it had already sunk into still indigo waters. Everything is moving faster and I can’t press pause. I want to breathe and pretend that these moments of clear salt water laughter and the echo of a grand piano through walls older than my country won’t fade to memory.
I am gripping every moment as tightly as I possibly can, but they are now slippery wet between my fingers and are sliding backward and forward. Into the known and the unknown, where all of everything that is so real and deeply embedded in my heart at this moment will soon fade to distant memories. I will carry these memories, these moments that have changed who I am in far more aspects than I could have imagined with me in a leak-proof jar within me forever, but I will never be able to open their lid to revisit and relive.
I thought of coming back for a whole semester, but I realized that nothing could ever be the same. I can always come back here, but I can never come back to now. The people I love would be missing, and I would have aged in mind and experience. In several days the joyous curiosity of trials, failures, winning, learning and the perfect friendships of the present will be lost in a state of time hardly different from a dream. I want to stay and learn and live, but I feel like I’m leaving home with no way to ever come back.