I can’t say I didn’t expect to feel this way. But that doesn’t make it any easier.
I knew that it would be difficult for me to balance that impending date of departure with enjoying my remaining weeks to the fullest. There are constant little last’s and almost last’s and almost-almost last’s. Each one is a pang, causing my smile to waver, taking me out of enjoying the moment to realizing the fleeting nature of the moment.
This last week has been full of ups and downs emotionally, and I’m beginning to feel more and more like a pendulum. The peak of happy, questioning my happiness, swinging into the security of indifference, feeling slightly miserable, then peaking at melodramatic gloom; repeat. The peak of Englishness—countryside rambles, river outings, Pimms, strawberries, a rainy day, a successful attempt at the accent—slipping down into a weird, uncomfortable in-between, only here for a few more weeks, before peaking again at Americaness—envisioning my summer back home. I’m in a constant flux, trying to grasp something definite, like the number of days left, but also attempting to forget the stupid end date and just enjoy what’s left.
Balance. Balance is what I need. An awareness of valuing my last’s and appreciating my experiences, whilst not pressuring myself to feel the weightlessness of being here indefinitely.
The end date is there. Early July. Staring me in the face. Boldly, stoically, unchangeable. Here’s to me acknowledging it.
Would this year even be as wonderful if it went on indefinitely? I think I can safely venture to say that it wouldn’t somehow—even while I’m dreaming that it could. I’ve experienced so many firsts this year, the partner to my lasts. I’ve built a life in England but I’ve known all along that it isn’t a permanent life. Technically it could be eventually, if I decide I want to make it one and return someday. But Oxford won’t wait for me and remain the same. Remain the unique Oxford of my year abroad, filled with “my” people; she will change, evolve, progress with time and become other, different people’s Oxford too.
Most, but definitely not all, of my relationships have remained at a casual level, not as serious as those back home, with the people who’ve known me for three or ten or twenty plus years. Life here hasn’t been as bogged down with serious responsibilities, like a job or a GPA or thoughts of my post-grad future. This year has been a dream, teaching me so much by taking me out of myself, out of my comfort zone, into unchartered territory.
What would this year be like if it could afford to lose its novelty and become more permanent? What would life be like if I were a full-time Oxford undergraduate, reading English?
Those are questions I flirt with but can never really answer. And if I’m completely honest, I don’t think I want the answer. This year has been amazing, for exactly what it is. And I miss Georgetown and can’t imagine losing what experiences I’ve had there already, the future that awaits me back on its campus. Georgetown shaped me and made me ready for Oxford. I think Oxford has also readied me, for the rest of my time at Georgetown and for the real world of adulthood and independence. Precisely for its dreamy quality, its challenging and exhilarating nature, Oxford has made me hungry for more.
Yes, for more of Oxford. But also for more of that adult life that awaits murkily ahead of me. I can’t see it but He certainly can. The limitlessness of my future, that scares me now with its completely undefined nature, also holds a great deal of possibility. I remember, so clearly, feeling that way about Oxford too; and look how blessed, how rich my life here has been.
For now, I will take all the Oxford I can get. I will savor and adore her for what she has given me thus far; but I would never underestimate her in thinking she doesn’t have something more to offer me. One month, after all, is still a significant period of time.
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