Goodbye To All That

I'm writing this in a rented room, across the street from the campus I've attended for five years. Five days ago I took the last exam I will have to take here, the only one standing between me and a Bachelor's degree. Now that it's done, I have no reason to be here any longer - I am free to go home, a fifteen-hour flight away in another country. Waiting for me there are family, a therapist and a psychologist, all braced for my arrival.

It is a place I have not visited for more than a few weeks at a time in five years.

In the past, when I pictured this point in my life, I always thought it would be emotional. I do not do well at goodbyes. But I'm mostly numb. Through the deadness comes the occasional wave of something - regret? sadness? - but mostly, there is only a faint sense of relief. I can't quite believe that the prospect of leaving behind the life I've lived for five years and the people I've lived it with is not affecting me more strongly. But then again, some of the people I imagined would be more emotional during our final goodbyes have been almost casual. So I obviously haven't been picturing this whole business realistically.

Or maybe it's the pills. It's entirely possible.