It's almost over.
This became so clear to me it almost hurts physically. Three more weeks and this will be over. This whole year will just be done. But I feel like I can't leave before I finished some things.
This last month, I took a pause from all of this and flew to London with Svenja. Being miles away helped to clear thoughts and mind. I can't say in words how beautiful this city is and I know it was a mistake to leave it and come back. But that's what we did because we had to.
I spent one week here, being weird and somehow beautiful, and my mom was there to spend some time with me. We headed back home together for my birthday then. It was like waking up and realizing how amazing the people surrounding me are. It was good to see them, beautiful to talk to them, almost hurt to laugh with them. This is the point where I have to say it again: I love my family and friends.
And then I went back here and things got even more weird. My brother came with me and again I had a beautiful night out with friends whom I'll miss so badly when I'll leave.
Then one of my roommates left. It's so strange to see her now empty room and imagine she'd lived there only weeks ago. It's not the three of us anymore. It's not the same. And it reminded me so brutally of how short our time left here is.
So how do I feel about it? I'm torn apart. I can't wait to get back with my family and friends, but I can't stand leaving those I met here. Especially some of them. I can't imagine not going to see handball games with Natalie and Caro every second weekend. I can't imagine not going out drinking with Pia anymore. I can't believe not trying to find a way to meet that one boy anymore. But all of this doesn't matter because that's just what will happen.
And I can't imagine not falling apart because of that.