Of the End, or This Could Get Sappy
The end is very fucking nigh!
Seriously, in under a month I'm heading home and...well, I'm conflicted (to be expected I suppose). This is beyond the general mixed feelings of an ending semester, the relief of school being over for a few months tinged with the disappointment of leaving your friends for a while. I'm not coming back to Ireland next semester, and I'm almost certainly never going to see any of the people I've met here ever again (with a few exceptions, but that's only going to be a one-time event). It's depressing that these people who I've actually gotten close with are going to be scattered to the four winds forever and I won't ever really get to talk to them when I get home. And I know I can talk to them online and whatnot, but still, you lose something with a friendship like that.
And yes, there are exceptions to that rule. Katie and I are still really close despite the fact that I see her maybe once or twice a year, but I think that's because when we do talk, we're stupidly open about everything with each other. I still consider Bones one of my best friends, even if I rarely talk to him or see him (last I saw him was at Piston and Liz's wedding last April -- OH CRAP, it was their anniversary, I should call them). And Shayna lives in freakin' Montana and I haven't seen her in literally years, but we still talk all the damn time. These people are the hard and fast exceptions.
Aside from the people, I genuinely like Limerick. I really like walking downtown and getting a kebab for lunch. I like going out to Hurlers and the Lodge on Sundays. I like watching Munster rugby matches and cheering for a game I barely understand. When I go home I won't be able to do that stuff again.
Of course, I miss home. I want to see my family and friends again, and go to Wawa and have hoagies and cheesesteaks and go to the shore and, Goddamnit, I want to watch the tram cars please. I wanna cross the Ben Franklin Bridge and spend a day on South Street wandering through record shops and being handed poorly-xeroxed Socialist propoganda literature. I want to get confused at how pine trees grow in sand and I want to see the refuelers flying out of McGuire.
My only regret about when I come home is that it's right before the Heineken Cup Finals, which Munster will surely be in. Limerick is going to be a mad house that weekend.
Seriously, in under a month I'm heading home and...well, I'm conflicted (to be expected I suppose). This is beyond the general mixed feelings of an ending semester, the relief of school being over for a few months tinged with the disappointment of leaving your friends for a while. I'm not coming back to Ireland next semester, and I'm almost certainly never going to see any of the people I've met here ever again (with a few exceptions, but that's only going to be a one-time event). It's depressing that these people who I've actually gotten close with are going to be scattered to the four winds forever and I won't ever really get to talk to them when I get home. And I know I can talk to them online and whatnot, but still, you lose something with a friendship like that.
And yes, there are exceptions to that rule. Katie and I are still really close despite the fact that I see her maybe once or twice a year, but I think that's because when we do talk, we're stupidly open about everything with each other. I still consider Bones one of my best friends, even if I rarely talk to him or see him (last I saw him was at Piston and Liz's wedding last April -- OH CRAP, it was their anniversary, I should call them). And Shayna lives in freakin' Montana and I haven't seen her in literally years, but we still talk all the damn time. These people are the hard and fast exceptions.
Aside from the people, I genuinely like Limerick. I really like walking downtown and getting a kebab for lunch. I like going out to Hurlers and the Lodge on Sundays. I like watching Munster rugby matches and cheering for a game I barely understand. When I go home I won't be able to do that stuff again.
Of course, I miss home. I want to see my family and friends again, and go to Wawa and have hoagies and cheesesteaks and go to the shore and, Goddamnit, I want to watch the tram cars please. I wanna cross the Ben Franklin Bridge and spend a day on South Street wandering through record shops and being handed poorly-xeroxed Socialist propoganda literature. I want to get confused at how pine trees grow in sand and I want to see the refuelers flying out of McGuire.
My only regret about when I come home is that it's right before the Heineken Cup Finals, which Munster will surely be in. Limerick is going to be a mad house that weekend.