Goodbyes

My program in Spain ended today. Most everyone got on their planes and left. Back to America. 5 weeks of the best weeks we have ever had and back to real life. It was sad to see them go.

These types of programs really bring people close. It's like hyper speed dating/ friendship. For 5 weeks they are with you all the time– breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleepovers.

There's no space. But at the end of the program you feel that you have known these people your whole life. They become great friends, best friends and or bitter enemies.

Last night, the eight of us (the team), who have spent the whole trip together (taking trips, drinking, everything), went to our favorite bar one last time.

It was weird to think that we would never be in this place together again. We might never fully reunite. Sure, we will see each other in pairs of more. But the chance of all 8 in a room together is unlikely. Sad, but true.

I always have a tough time thinking about stuff like that. This isn't like California, where I can always find a way in to my old dorm room or apartment. This is Villaviciosa de Odon, Spain, and I can confidently say that I won't be back. Except in 4 days to pick up my luggage.

Europe is so far away, I may never get back here, no matter what I say now. It's a pretty rough thought.

Alyse and I take off for Valencia in a few hours, so we are just hanging out. It's weird to watch this place that we lived in for a month turn into a ghost town. It's even worse to clean out a room.

I get sad cleaning out a hotel room. It's just somewhere you will never be again. The memories can't be duplicated. It's done. Over. You have to check out.

I think emptying a room out is one of my least favorite things to do. You build your life in the room. You make it your own. It is a representation of you. It's your life and then you clear it out and it's empty.

Your life is gone and once again it's an empty room, like you were never there. I always think about leaving a note to the person, who will live there after me, but I never do. The maid might pick it up and then the plan would be ruined. And what would my note say?

"Joe Cannon lived here." To which the reader would respond, "So? Who the fuck is Joe Cannon?" An obvious oversight of greatness, but it's forgivable.

or maybe- " GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN!" But that's not clever enough.

So I don't write them.

I just get really sad about getting old. I know you aren't comfortable with me having feelings, but I really hope that I'm living a full life.

I wish this program was two weeks longer. Then it would be perfect. Alyse and I are making it that long by heading off to London for a week after 4 days in Balenthia. But it would be nice to have had two weeks more with the group.

I miss everyone from home, seeing JT in Porto was a big pick me up from homesickness. Honestly, after the first night in Paris when the homesickness hit hard, I haven't felt it, until today. I miss the people that left 3 hours ago.

Having the greatest travel companion/girlfriend eases my hyperemotionality a lot. And knowing that I'm going to see everybody soon is exciting.

I hope that the whole team will reunite again. It just won't be the same. It can't be. The good news is that it doesn't have to be. We started off with some wild experiences and even better memories. Let's have some more.

In conclusion, I don't suck at goodbyes. I just would rather not say them. I always cry. Always.

When it comes check out time, you just have to go. Otherwise, I would never leave.

Thanks to the team for some great memories.

Here's a quote from last night that I think sums up our relationship rather well.

"There was a time tonight, when I was going to throw up, and give up, but I didn't. I said, 'If we are going out, then we are going all night long. So I didn't throw up."