It’s a strange sensation, to be leaving. To retrace my first steps in this city, to drink it all in, carries with it fresh waves of contemplation. It is six whole months later, but I still feel that it was just yesterday that I stepped off the plane and into a new life. Now, I feel as though I finally fit into it. The mirrored skyline is comforting to me, glittering clusters of cool blue and bottle green, a crown of jewels illuminated in the inky water of the peaceful little bay it surrounds.

It is times like these that I remember that it’s an island, cradled by the sea, far away from everything else, the world and all of its problems, existing in a state of quiet composure. It is times like these that I savor the delicate stillness, beautiful and fragile as glass and equally transparent. And it is times like these, oddly, that I feel a sense of belonging.

Now, I feel a little bit lost. I am not anchored to anything that this moment. There’s a whole world out there, and I am more restless than ever to explore every bit of it. Simply going through the motions of life has never satisfied me, but now more than ever I feel an underlying sense of urgency. I'm just not sure toward what.

Everything is different now. I'm different now. I miss my real home, but I am uncertain of what awaits there or how I fit into it. It’s like I’m finally returning to reality, but one that I don’t fully recognize.

Once again, I’m saying goodbye to a place that inevitably has a little piece of my heart buried within it, and I wonder if it’ll feel this hollow every time.