At school I will see all my friends that I have or have not seen during my summer holiday. I've grown fond of them. I've found the right people in my life. I will spend lots and lots of evenings with them watching movies, playing video games and eating so much candy my stomach will ache even a day after eating them. 

After I come home from school, I will tease my little brother a little bit after he's come home too. Mum will get back from her school an hour later. We'll argue whose turn it is to do the dishes this week. I will lie it's my brother's turn, because I hate the feeling of getting food oil on my hands.

Later, after I've made a phone call to my father asking about our plans for the weekend, I will go to my bed and maybe watch a movie or something before I pass out on the bed. I forgot to brush my teeth, but that's okay, because I'm home.

Only that's not what will happen.

By the end of this week I will not see these walls I've been staring for the last thirteen minutes. I will not be here to order my brother to do the dishes because mum told him so. I will not go to school nor will I see my friends to have a laugh with/at them.

In fact, I won't even be here, in this town, country or even this continent. To be honest, I don't know where I will be by the end of this week. I know I will be in Neuquén, Argentina. I know how my room looks like. I know there will be a swimming pool in the yard. I know my school is near my home. But do I really know where I'm going?

I had this kind of a farewell party today (or yesterday, to be precise, but I still haven't gone to sleep as you clearly can see read) where my relatives and people close to my family came. Nothing fancy. Everyone brought some food that they wanted to eat. Dress code: casual. We got a bunch of people together to send me off to the big world, that was the plan. I kind of had this image in my mind where tears would be shed and big words spoken, but that wasn't the case. And the more I think about it, the more happy I am that we had it so. I'd rather hug a person and say "see you later" like it's no big deal - just like we did today. We got the people together and spend some time chatting with them before everyone went back home like I'm not even leaving. That is actually just the way it is supposed to be, don't you think? I am coming back anyways, just a little later.

My friend came here later in the evening to help me out with the pins. We didn't get a single pin done and finished, but to my defense, we did get every picture cut out and half of them ready to be laminated. Without her help I wouldn't have gotten further than realizing that I'm really screwed.

Seeing my big, big family together, spending time with my friend and watching a late night movie from my laptop under my comfy blanket made me realize I'm actually a really fortunate person. I know where I belong. I got everything I need. I am happy.

So why am I going to be in Argentina by the end of the week? Why is it that when I finally found my place, I chose to leave it? Truth is I don't even know anymore. I'm not doubting my motives (because c'mon, does being an exchange student really need one?) but I am questioning them. This whole time I've been telling other exchange students that everything you feel is alright. Feel remorse? That's fine. Fear? Completely normal. It's just weird that only now I'm really feeling those emotions myself. I know it all will pass, and these are just things that I have to go through. Just don't let it get to you too much. Appreciate what you have in here, don't feel sorry for yourself or cling onto the gnawing feelings. Let it wash over you and you'll be fine. Your mind will be clearer, too. That's what I told to myself as I felt a string being pulled tighter. I've had this feeling for a couple weeks already, getting gradually worse every time I looked at the day counter on my phone. But this time the string was really tight, so tight that I knew it was only a matter of days that it would break. I didn't know what that feeling represented (maybe the fear of letting go of what you know and stepping soooo far out of your comfort zone...) or if it was just everything that has been churning inside my head on the last few week weeks now that my date of departure is almost here, but I did knew one thing - when the string would snap, I would weep it away.

I just had a two-minute cry. Bawled my eyes out until I couldn't cry more because otherwise I would have had to get up and go all the way to bathroom to get toilet paper for my runny nose, and I didn't really feel like getting up. Lazy to the very end, it seems. But crying made the strangling feeling go away and my mind get all empty again, and for what I've learned, that's a good thing. Yes, I'm actually starting freak out finally, even though I still don't quite understand what the hell do I think I'm doing. Just a few hours ago I was still eager to leave and only nervous about getting everything done before I leave. Now I'm pretty sure I will have everything done before I leave but I'm nervous to leave. Crazy how fast it all can change. 

This is just a not so quick reminder to all who think being an exchange student is just fun, year worth of holiday and parties: you're wrong. You're so, so wrong. It's not just flower crowns and butterflies and pink unicorns. Unless you are or have been an exchange student, you have no freaking idea what it's like in one's head and in this situation of having to leave your life right after you've gotten everything in their places.

And this is just the beginning.

As an apology for this huge mess I call a blog post, accept this video I recently laughed at: