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Monday, 6 August 2012

Wilkommen

Even before starting to write it occurs to me that it's cheesy to write about welcomes when I'm actually supposed to be saying goodbye, but the truth is I'm not in a goodbye kind of mood and the welcome inspiring the title isn't the kind you'd think.

We were out on a roadtrip to have lunch today and had a meal with everyone left to celebrate mum's birthday. I'm pretty much all done. I just have to remember to pack pads, print out the medical insurance papers and download the pictures I took today. I think that's it, I might regret it sooner than later. It seems to me that at least the essentials are covered. Lingerie? Check. Clothes and shoes to wear tomorrow? Check. Books? Check. Diploma? Check. Food? Double-check. Lovely dresses? Check. Locks?... Well, aunt A says they're superfluous and I don't know if my paranoia warrants getting the expensive ones. That leaves a few minor last minute purchases for tomorrow. 

A asked if she could come by to say goodbye. I said it was ok and told her I'd let her know when I got back from lunch. She arrived sometime after my uncles left. She stayed until 11:30pm, when everyone had already gone to bed and I was very tired. I think it's fair to say she overstayed her welcome. It's unfair (but true) to say she wasn't very welcome here at all to begin with. Not on my side, anyway. Not for her to come vent about yesterday night's drama. To make matters worse, I actually missed a call from AOB (which I wish I'd been able to take). I left him a message and I'll be checking facebook tomorrow morning. CtThumbe sent a message asking if it would be ok to come meet me at the airport to say goodbye. It's actually a very sweet gesture. Haven't heard from EBF.

To summarise: A came over and overstayed her welcome, and I told her to come even though she wasn't very welcome at all; I missed a welcome call from AOB and a message from CtThumbe; screw all other goodbyes.

How do I feel, now? The answer now is the same I gave SmTn: numb. I don't feel anxious. What's keeping me up at night writing this is the need to write, which doesn't feel directly related to leaving. Rather, I felt a little petty and wanted to get the A thing out of my system. I don't even feel emotional at all about the goodbyes. I don't think I'm fully aware of the situation just yet. I'll be on a plane to a different country in about 12 hours and I have nothing but packed suitcases to show for it. I've actually debated on whether or not to leave some of the money my parents gave me behind. I might leave it with a note to my mother, telling her to use it for something necessary. I have to make sure to delete all traces and evidence of an old envelope with letters and pieces of paper now devoid of meaning. Through some hesitation making sure nothing precious was left, I deleted all messages on my phone when I was done copying the numbers. 

I almost wrote LesMisGuy's number down. I almost didn't delete the messages. I even considered going over them one last time before they were gone for good. I didn't. I realised it was worthless to keep his number knowing it will be useless. I didn't go over any of the messages knowing it would have been torture. I deleted them all because I wouldn't want mum snooping. It all brings me back to something I told AOB: in the spurt of the moment, after briefly going over what happened with LesMisGuy, when he asked why I never called, texted or otherwise tried to contact him after he said "maybe some other time" I said "I was too embarrassed... I know it sounds terrible to put it that way, but I felt humiliated." True that. Whenever I think about the whole thing I sink lower in my seat, I cover myself up in bed, I shrug my shoulders and retreat to foetal position. AOB was right: I need not feel that way, and yet I do. The facts remain that I grew very attached to a young man I believed was wonderful, I pursued the fantasy of a relationship with him, I put myself out there for him and when all was said and kissed done, he wanted nothing to do with me. What kind of self-respect can a gal have when everything she has to offer gets that kind of response?

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