lundi 19 mai 2008

the first goodbye

Sarah leaves tomorrow. I can't even begin to imagine what's going on in her head right now amidst all the packing and getting ready, closing the bank account and buying last minute souvenirs for friends. Tonight, had dinner at Pondicherry, our go-to Indian restaurant near Gare du Nord. Susie got us a table for eight: Sarah, Lily, Peter (their roommate), Taylor, Susie, Lucia, Melissa, and me. The food was great as always and cheap. Had the masala dosai and a lassi mangue. We complained about school, laughed and made jokes, and made plans for the future.

Outside the restaurant before all going our separate ways, we hugged and said goodbye to Sarah and made plans to meet up in SF or at Chico where she goes to school. Then Sarah said, "Can we hug again? I'm really going to miss you guys." And then we all hugged again. It was really sweet.

Going through this just makes me think about what I did before I left the States to come here. I remember my brother having to go to work so he couldn't see me off. He said goodbye, and I was half-asleep. Mom, Dad, and Cher being the ones to leave me at the airport. I remember my last meal in the States being a McDonald's big breakfast.

I remember having a crush on a boy. At present, I no longer feel anything for him other than the platonic feelings I have for my other guy friends. I think being in Europe for a year will do that to you. I just hope to God that he doesn't feel anything for me anymore, that he has a girlfriend now. I don't know, in hindsight I feel really foolish for thinking that I will still like the same boy after being gone for a year in Paris.

I'm going off on a tangent here, but it's weird how much I really like being alone. Being in Paris really brought that out. I really don't feel like it's totally accepted in the States. I remember my friends back home being weirded out that I'd go to the movies alone. Here, it's okay. I see girls and guys alone at the movies, restaurants, cafes. I mean, I love my friends and their company, but I can do things without them and be okay. And it's nice to know that I can do that, that I don't have to depend on someone being there with me. Mom once said to me, "You're a loner, just like you father." And Dad once said, "You have the hands of an assassin." I think I must've been a ninja or an assassin in my past life. Just a lonely traveler. Maybe a Hessian like Christopher Walken.

It's a nice balance though--having a great group of friends to share experiences with and being able to get away alone and rely on myself. It's the best, and I can't imagine it any other way.