On Traveling

Things are ending.
New things are starting.
It is a strange time for me. I'm coming to the end of a semester, which is usually a jubilant time. Finals go by, then there is a gorgeous three week break. However, that break means something completely different to me this year. I won't be coming back in three weeks; I'll be leaving. In fact, I'll be heading a few thousand miles east by northeast to spend a semester in this little place called Oxford.

I am exceedingly pumped to be there, to see Europe, to learn.

I am not so excited to be gone.

There is so much that I will miss. I will miss my sister's final musical while she is in high school. I will miss two shows put on by my own school and two more put on by my friends, all of which will be starring friends of mine. I will be missing vocal recitals by people in my life of whom I am exceedingly fond.

But more than that, there are so many little things I will miss, and those will be the hardest: the day to day happenings. People whom I pass on the sidewalk and greet. Chapel services. Impromptu trips to 24 hour restaurants. Inside jokes. My friends will still be my friends when I return, but there is so much shared experience I will not have. What if some of my friends start dating, and I don't get to know them in relationship? What if other friends break up? What if a friend lops of all her hair? What if a friend takes up dancing?

I don't know how to express it.

But it is the little things I dread missing.
Things like the sounds of familiar voices.