I hate goodbyes of any sort. I hate goodbyes at the end of bad nights, when one could feel the remnants of the party churning in their stomach and the way home is longer and more twisted than usual. I hate goodbyes at the end of good nights, when one laughs and hugs their friends with the acceptance that such a night could never be repeated. But my year taught me to appreciate every night and take from it a lesson. Whether the lesson be that Fanta doesn't actually go with everything or that trains will not turn around even if you weep at the platform, I've come to accept what each night has to teach me.
My time in Germany was one long night, not bad or good or in-between, rather a midnight train ride into the Unbekannte and beyond. I've met the most amazing people here and I don't even want to imagine what it will be like without them just a train ride away. In getting to know my new country and culture, I've gotten to know myself a little better. I know my limits. I know that I walk about 60% slower than most people. And although I still have no idea what exactly I want out of life I know how I could get it and what I need to push myself.
Every night is followed with a morning when whatever one is feeling correlates to just how magical their experiences were. Sometimes (most times when discussing a really heftig night) one had had a little too much magic or even mixed their magics and could feel it in their stomach, transformed now into a strong force that demands gallons of water and perhaps some fatty foods. Luckily, German food was probably scientifically engineered to counter the aftermath of magic. It only takes sausage, bread, and maybe some potatoes to make sure one's magic doesn't turn on them in the morning.
Because my year was about 11 months of pure magic, I know all the potatoes in the world couldn't counter the giant hangover that is next year. I'm gonna hug my new friends goodbye knowing we had the experiences of a lifetime and that such a year could never be repeated. The ride home will be long and twisted but I know I still have old friends waiting for me.
Being an exchange student is learning not only how to say goodbye, but also how to come back and face whatever is waiting there. Just as in the morning after each long night when one is left with an empty room once filled with dancers and singers, and the responsibility to clean up the empty bottles of magic and trying to make it look normal again, the end of an exchange is coming back to one's old life with the responsibility of bringing back packed up memories and picking up where they left off. But just as the room will never look the same after being stained with memories and magic, an exchange student's life could never go back to how it was before. All we could do is try to present our new selves to the old world and work to bring our two lives together.
So grab another bottle of magic and get up and dance, because the night's almost over and you're probably gonna get a hangover anyway.
