I'm sitting in my big fluorescently-lit room on my sheetless bed staring at the dozen or so empty hangers in my closet and the white barren walls. My giant suitcase looms in the corner.
I thought I would have some kind of emotions to process but I don't. I'm just...leaving. I'm slightly disappointed to be leaving the world of "other," for we all know that all that is "other" is innately more exciting than "home." I'm not looking forward to returning to subbing or student teaching. But other than that, I'm just...here. Living day by day. Moment by moment. Staring at my computer screen to pass time, listening to K-Pop, and not thinking about what tomorrow will bring.
This was not a finite experience, the way France felt. This feels like only the first chapter of a long relationship with Japan. It's a great comfort to know I'll be back. I don't mind that I haven't visited such-and-such city or bought any kind of special souvenir for myself; there'll be time for that later.
It's strange to think you don't know what exactly will stir your memory until you leave the situation. What songs will remind me of here? What smells, feelings? I'll have to wait until it's gone to find out. For now I'm still here.
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