Yesterday I had to say goodbye to what has become my home over the last four months. It was hard. It hurt. I knew this day would be challenging when I committed to investing fully and holding nothing back. I had no idea that it would tear me apart like this.

My heart is grieving. I know that's weird to say in such a circumstance. I've become so intertwined with this experience that the goodbyes are tough. I've made friends. I've become vulnerable, all the while knowing that I may never see these people again. It's easy to succumb to the mentality of keeping relationships at a distance for fear of the future hurt. As much as I wish I could undo the pain I've been experiencing, I've come to realize that I've been changed for the better because of the relationships I've developed here. Professors and students. Europeans and Americans. Mentors and roommates and friends. 

I've been struggling with the idea of goodbyes for the last four weeks. In February I decided to fully invest in the experience and hold nothing back; I would deal with the emotions later. And then "later" came. I didn't want to leave. I was fighting real bad. This manifested as a short fuse and emotional fits brought on by incidents unworthy of my response. Example: my roommate approaches me and makes a comment about something. I'm not thrilled. She leaves and I find myself angry. And then I retreat into myself and cry. 

I was wisely told that anger is a very real emotion, but it's also surface level; anger usually indicates that there's something else deeper going on. I wanted to give up and go home, but not because I was ready to be home. I was done fighting the battle. I have pages upon pages of journal entries from these past few weeks as I sought to explore and remedy what was happening. 

This was very much an independent battle. A few people knew that I disliked that the end was coming but I never let anyone see the full extent of my struggle until this past week. I don't think I even let myself see because I was afraid. Afraid of what? I'm not quite sure. 

I told myself that I didn't want to compartmentalize this experience as I am sometimes in the habit of doing. When I first discovered this ability a year ago, I was scared; my emotions are such a real and prominent part of life that I was frightened with the ability to detach myself. What was happening? Plus I knew that if I buried the painful parts, the good would hide too because of how intertwined the experience has been. And it has always come back to bite me. 

Sure, I didn't compartmentalize this time. Instead, I made myself completely emotionally numb. Not much better. For a period of time last week I couldn't feel anything. No thrill about my adventures. No regret or remorse either. It was weird and frustrating. 

And then I let that first tear roll down my cheek on Tuesday during my exit interview and that was it. I've been crying numerous times a day for the last week. I hate showing that side to others. I don't want to make people feel uncomfortable. Luckily, I've been surrounded by some incredible love as I process this time and what it means to be going home. In a sense, that contributes to the problem, but the support and hugs have helped a lot. 

It's hardest to say goodbye to those who I may never see again. Many of my friends go to school in the Midwest, and I am already trying to plan a visit. Two of the Europeans I bonded best with are studying abroad at Gordon in the fall and I will see them over fall break. But the study abroad staff and my roommates and the members of the spiritual life team and the study abroad interns and my professors and other faculty members...I hope life will allow our paths to cross again. 

Two weeks ago I was given advice by the study abroad director. She always has the best words to say and really good hugs and never fails to make me cry. I'll miss the way she can see right through me. When I expressed that I wasn't pleased about the closing of the semester, she said that all things must come to an end--both good and bad. It was hard to hear, but in a weird way was exactly what I needed in that moment. This grieving will end too. 

I keep reminding myself that this is not the end. We have Skype and Facebook and email and countless other apps to facilitate communication. The growth does not stop with the cessation of the semester. It will certainly look different, but life is a constant journey of ups and downs, of growth and development. I look forward to implementing the lessons I've learned here. This semester has been life changing. I'm thankful to have been blessed with the opportunity to live and grow abroad. I've fallen in love with this beautiful land and the beautiful people who inhabit it. 

See you later, Lithuania, if life allows!

Iki pasimatymo.