To remind you for the thirtieth time, I'm moving back to the U.S. after living in Japan for three years. This has been an inevitability since February when I turned down my fourth year contract with my school. The date was vaguely set and I promptly put it out of my head. Since then I've dealt with the logistics of leaving. I have plane tickets and have started packing and getting rid of my belongings. I've been in touch with the woman who will be replacing me. I've thought about it a lot, but that hasn't prevented a little bit of desperation to set in.
I know I'm on the brink of a major change in my life and I'm really not sure how to deal with it. I've noticed myself becoming a bit withdrawn. I've been taking care of the logistics, but I haven't been taking care of the emotional side. I'm avoiding things that I know will be hard. I need to write a farewell speech to my students. I should be spending more time with my friends. I shouldn't be sitting here at my desk right now, I should be out chatting with the students and teachers. I was barely able to go the Leavers' party last weekend in Fukushima and once there it took a concerted effort to enjoy myself. I want to do these things I just feel that tightness in my throat every time I even think about them. I'm just waiting for the tiniest thing to set me off crying.
I know I can't distance myself from the very things that are making this process so hard! Does that even make sense? I love it all so much. How can I say goodbye to an entire country?
How do I say goodbye to an entire chapter of my life?
And HOW do I say goodbye to the loveliest public restrooms in the world?
Back story: This restroom was at a 7-11. Off the expressway. It had incense, seat covers, antibacterial spray, two air fresheners and wicker baskets of feminine products. There were floral decals on the walls. It was spotless. I would have eaten lunch and taken a nap on this toilet.