will you hold your finger here so i can tie a nice neat bow?

Almost five months have unraveled, leaving only ten paper chain links until home. The month of June has been filled with “lasts” and “goodbyes” to both relationships and adventures. Since the 18^th of June, friends have gradually been packing their overly warn t-shirts, kiwi branded souvenirs and broken-in boots, while trying to unpack their last five months spent in NZ. As I am not leaving for ten more days, I have been walking with dozens of friends through the leaving process and have been reflecting on patterns I’ve seen within each goodbye. We all want goodbyes to be extravagant, the final peak to an ever-building adventure. We want one final night, one final adventure, one final word that will tie a shiny satin ribbon around an experience we have been building over the past months. But goodbyes are not neat and tidy. Instead they are haggard and discombobulated. Filled with emotions, flowing in unrhythmic and unstoppable waves; nervous, excited, scared, anxious, tears, laughter, deep sorrow, heart-felt appreciation, riveting joy, cutting regret, invited anticipation. Each person embodies a different feeling at different time, leading to mismatched hugs of clashing sentiment. Endings are often just as awkward as beginnings, the initial introductions- thick emotions that won’t fit in the space between an initial handshake. Yet it isn’t the goodbye that matters, the ribbon will be untied and it is the present we get to keep, the laughter, the memories, the adventure. Those things that can’t be polished and won’t be tainted through “an amazing last night” or the “perfect goodbye.” So I’ll continue to walk through the next ten days trying to stop my ribbon-tying tendencies, knowing that I have had an indescribable experience that can’t be touched. Knowing that with the end of one adventure, a new one begins. Maybe it won’t have the glorious title, but sometimes the joys hidden in the pockets of ordinary days are the sweetest.