On Goodbyes, and Final Reflections

Every day, I remind myself that I am experiencing “a last”. Sunday was my last time going to La Fontaine; this Wednesday will be my time getting a St. Peter's cinnamon roll. 

Last Friday was my last time sitting in the King’s Garden with sunshine beaming on my face in that particular way, at that particular time. It’s a little hard to deal with. Yet, I have an awareness that it is time to go home. The only thing I am truly afraid of is not feeling this alive again. 

I mentioned earlier that I made a bucket list in a panic, and I only have two things still on that list out of around eleven. Checking them off has been fun, to see the things that I have done, but it paradoxically reminds me that there’s so much more that isn’t on the list, that I won’t get to do. 

Going home will be hard. I can already feel it. Not bad, not like I’m dreading it. But the transition will be difficult. Abroad, you have so much autonomy, you can do whatever you want whenever, without having to answer to anybody. In a city like Copenhagen, there is always something going on. I’ll be restless. 

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Wednesday 6:00 PM 

As my friends and I leave the DIS festival to go back home, we turn back to what would be our last look at the student hub. People were packing up inside, and some were walking back inside. It’s still not quite sinking in for me that I really won’t see the student hub again, that I won’t have class again on Monday. 

Wednesday 10:00 PM 

My roommates are cleaning out the fridge while I make pancakes and eggs for our last dinner together. Elizabeth’s birthday is on the fifteenth, but of course, since we won’t be together, we celebrate it now. I put 21 Danish flags on her chocolate cake that we devour. 

Thursday 6:05 am  CET

I leave my apartment for what will be the last time. Emma and I have decided to Uber to the airport together with two other friends. We were supposed to be gone by 6:00, but we lingered for as long as we could, saying our goodbyes. 

Thursday 2:00 pm - EST

After getting to JFK, Emma and I meet on the other side of customs and security, get burgers and chicken tenders from a small restaurant, and sit down together to eat. We hug one last time before I board the plane. 

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Friday 9:30 AM - EST 

There’s no way I would’ve or could’ve expected any of this for my time abroad. Going to DIS Copenhagen has been one of the best decisions of my life. I made some of my greatest friends, done things I never would’ve, pushed myself in ways I never have. I’ll miss the person I was while I was here, but I suppose, if I really try, I can be that person anywhere. 

Starting my journey and this blog, I remember saying that there was something about Copenhagen that drew me irresistibly toward it. If I found what I was looking for. And I think I did, only it’s less concrete than I initially thought. There’s no use in telling you, you’ll have to find it yourself.