Didn’t really do much today other than start packing and cleaning the room. It was very surreal to be doing this. I know everyone said it would be over before I knew it, but it really was the fastest four months of my life. I guess that is how I know I had a great time. Anyway, now I am all packed an am sitting in a barren room with nothing to do. Well not totally nothing. I did write a little bit more on my piece, with the blind hope that I will be able to finish it in time to deliver before I leave.
A little later, a few of us gathered at a friend’s (at Funenpark) to hang out one last time (this particular girl was leaving the next day, so this really was the first actual goodbye I had to make). It was fun, but slightly depressing. I will, in all probability never see most, if not all of these people again. I really didn’t think that would bother me, especially after feeling somewhat alienated by my friends at home (at noone’s fault, I am far away, and they made no attempt to contact me or anything, but whatever). I guess all in all, I am starting to realize that people really matter to me. I know it sounds silly, like “no duh man”, but I really thought otherwise most of my life until now. This idea of having meaningful connections to people is completely foreign, or at least thriving on these relationships. I always kind of thought that relationships with people were for the weak, who were not comfortable enough with themselves to be alone. That society really diluted one’s view of self and life. It all sounds so crazy in hindsight, but that was really how I thought, and to a certain degree still think. I think it would be interesting to find out what a qualified psychotherapist says about all this, if there was some deep-down traumatizing event in my childhood that has lead me to distrust people to such a degree that I find relationships a crutch. Who knows. For now, I think I am on the right path, at least admitting that there is something to this people-thing.
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