Apt. 12

I've been holding off on this post for a few reasons, but mostly because I've been in denial about this whole thing. A little over a week ago my roommates moved out. Less than 24 hours later, I moved across campus to a slum--just kidding! This past week has been a transition since I keep on thinking I'm going back to Apt 12 and I'm going to find Nicole dancing around, Steven making everyone tea, Bridget making chili, and John and Katie slagging the Americans. I still cannot believe the Spoon Squad has been disbanded, but with this transition time I've of course had a lot of time to reflect. 

It has become obvious to everyone that Ireland holds a special place for me and it is hard to verbalize why, but I think I said it best to my friend Morgan. It's just that none of this has felt temporary, Ireland feels like the first home that I have created for myself. Meaning there was no set group of friends or things to do; it was just me stumbling my way around Ireland. At the end of my freshman year, I left my dorm knowing that I wouldn't be back again and I didn't care. I was gone. I didn't realize until recently, how significant this was. I am a relationship person and when I say that I mean everyone in my life is there for a reason and I care about my friends...a lot.

Over one of my many breakfast convos with my roommate Bridge, she started laughing at me. I exclaimed, 'What is so funny?'. She replied you are going to be so sad when we leave. I thought to myself of course I am! I loved all of them--and still do. I asked why this was strange and her response was so simple, 'Because most people don't. Most people don't care at all'. This statement is so profound to me because I never thought that was my unique trait and yet, it was so obvious. Some people are so willing to leave others behind and they feel no sense of loss at the relationships they left behind. There is nothing wrong with that, but I never realized how different this practice was from my own until I was sitting at our breakfast table.

The conversation of course drifted to goodbyes since our goodbyes were quickly approaching. Bridge admitted she sucked at farewells and I completely agree goodbyes are no fun, but I believe if we have the opportunity to say goodbye we should take the opportunity since so often in life we are not given the chance. 
Goodbyes can be sad and emotional especially when you really are not sure when you are going to see the person again. But this is why I refuse to say goodbye, they are my "see ya laters" since I believe our paths will cross again. My "see ya laters" to my roommates happened at 7:30 in the morning after an hour of sleep, when we were all still a little out of it from the night before.

It was not an ideal goodbye, but as Bridge left she handed me a letter and I was told to read it later. I then went to bed, slept for an hour and immediately when I awoke I read the letter. This was Bridget's best version of a goodbye and it turns out she is the best at saying goodbye.

After reading the letter, I walked out of my room and realized I was the only American left in the apartment and I just felt a longing for the beginning of the semester. When we were just beginning our study abroad experience. When I moved in, I had no idea how close I would become with these strangers. I had no clue we would face Coppers together--and eventually face it on our own without the help of John's friends, we would laugh, almost burn down the kitchen, steal shopping carts, create a RIP list of everyone who is dead to us--I know this is messed up, but just go with it--and also grow and mature together.

When my family told me I had changed since I had left home. I said absolutely not. I'm the same me. Now, a little less than 5 months later I recognize that I am different. I typically shy away from change; it frightens me because I often want things to stay frozen in place. But all of a sudden, I looked around and I realized that I am not the same person that got on the plane at Logan and that's okay. I wish I could identify the exact moment I changed or even say how I changed, but I think it began the night before my first day of classes. It was 10:30 so I was about to go to bed...it was a school night, but then I heard laughter. I thought to myself well shit, all of my roommates are now buddies and here I am in my room. I had two options I could follow my schedule and go to bed or I could go out there and check what was going on. I chose the latter. I was wearing my fish pajamas when I joined the group in the kitchen and they were all playing spoons. I joined the game and we stayed up until 3 am playing and I absolutely loved it (no 'ragrets' as they say).

This is my thank you to the Spoon Squad (Katie, John, Nicole, Bridget, and Steven) for putting up with me for the entire semester. Thank you for letting me listen to Wannabe on repeat, helping me through all my "crises", for not giving me such a hard time about the Cocoa Brown, and for teaching me quite a few lessons that I will not forgot.

Until tomorrow's adventure,
Hannah