One year ago today, Shane and I stood, electrified yet somber, optimistic yet intimidated, in the international terminal of O'Hare in Chicago. We'd said our lachrymose farewells to our families and most of our possessions were packed away in storage. We arrived.
And here we are today, living a damn good life.
It's been the most challenging, most rewarding year we've ever had, both in our relationship to each other and in terms of our individual personal growth.
Articulating my feelings now is difficult. A whole year. Here. It's like I'm homesick, sure, but not exactly only that. My idea of home has become confused and jumbled. Here, Yeonje-gu, Busan, Korea is decidedly not home, but what will my home be like? Where will I return to?
Then again, I'm not really concerned about that right now, home is home and will always be. I will be there only six months from now.
What really has triggered this chain of thought is that now that we've been here a full year, we've been saying a lot of goodbyes once again. By the end of September, most of the friends we've here (apart from our wonderful co-worker friends) will be returned home, or off on their next great adventure. Goodbyes, but this time with us staying put. It's tough, but inevitable.
That all sounds incredibly despondent, but it's not and we're not.
In truth, my lack of dedication to Soju Cocktail can all be explained away by a summer well-spent. A few intensive projects have fallen on both mine and Shane's laps, and we took a fabulous week-long vacation to the Land of the Rising Sun. I took some time to polish up this article, and we're having a lot of fun with Diga. And beach time. We just can't resist the Sirens' song of Busan's beaches. We're soaking up every minute we can of that.
A lot remains to explore, to understand, to try to explain with my feeble words.
Thanks for hanging out, Readers. Peace from us to you.