I'm home

Nothing much changes in this town. The buildings get painted and old signs get replaced. The leaves fall off the trees and in a few months they come back. The people are the same. The bars are the same. There are places I avoid because I know that I will see the same people I've seen for years, doing the same thing they've always been doing, with seemingly no goals or aspirations and endless glasses of beer or whiskey.
Then there's me, and I have no goals or aspirations, either.
I just don't want to be reminded.

So I'll sit at home with my dogs. And cry a little bit when I think of Georgia, and try to remember every little detail of riding the bus down Chavchavadze, because soon I won't remember much at all. I think about saying goodbye. And walking through old town laughing even though it was hard. And watching Lydia walk away from me down the stairs crying. Sitting in the front seat of the cab, watching Tbilisi flash by me for the last time--the television tower glittering and the churches glowing, like they always do. Thanking the cab driver and dragging my luggage into the airport, realizing that was probably the last Georgian I'd speak in a long, long time. And feeling incredibly lonely.

All your friends are gone

I cried when I landed in Chicago. There were so many houses, and bright blue pools in the backyards, and no soviet block buildings. My friends are gone. I sat for five hours alone, pacing the airport with my heavy bag and sleepy eyes. I boarded another plane. I slept and woke up, moved my legs around in front of my seat. I landed. I almost cried when I saw my mom and my dog at the bottom of the escalator.

Yesterday I didn't leave the house, but to eat Taco Bell.

Today I drove around and I cried because everything was the same but all my friends are gone and when I feel happy because I get a burrito for the first time in five months, no one is there with me.

The people at the stores ask me "how are you?" and make comments on the weather, but all I can think about is "you don't actually care." And when I listen in on conversations, I wish that I couldn't understand English because a lot of girls are so. fucking. dumb. And the guys driving around in their jeeps with the top off and their shirts off aren't any better.

But then I get out of the car, and I walk around campus and things seem really beautiful. Because it is the same, and my dog is so happy to be outside with me, and no one is staring at me because I am the same as everyone else for once.

And that is what it's like to be home.

Packing up everything I own is a daunting challenge. I have to admit, I'm procrastinating a ton. I have under 2.5 weeks to get everything I own into a storage unit and leave the country. I also have under 2.5 to hang out with everyone I know. I feel constantly busy, except for today because I'm just sitting around going through stuff trying to decide if I REALLY want to keep it, or if I can donate it to Goodwill. I am really too sentimental. Do I need to save a random candle holder that my friend gave me in 7th grade? I guess not.... but what if I want it for some reason later and don't have it!?!?!
I think the worst part is imagining not living in my condo anymore. After 3.5 years it's more of a "home" than pretty much anywhere else in the world. And soon I won't have it anymore! It's sad, but exciting.
I am so excited to go to Georgia. But nervous. And what do I even pack??? I'm not sure how to prioritize my clothing, because I love it all. And shoes... that will be DIFFICULT.