Anyway Here's Wonderwall

As I'm typing this, it's 1:34am, and I'm somewhere in the Baltic Sea. I'm headed to Finland by boat for two weeks of quality time with some of my favourite people, Ida and Pauliina, so I'm of course very excited about that.

Seeing as my ship will dock in Turku at 7am, I decided it would be a wise and responsible decision to go to sleep early. My cabin is inconveniently located a floor below the ship's nightclub, and the noise made it difficult to fall asleep, but once I was asleep, I didn't encounter any problems.

Until approximately ten minutes ago when the club, for some unthinkable reason, started playing Wonderwall (seriously, who plays Wonderwall at a club?)

This song in particular brought me out of my slumber, and once I realised what song was playing, the heartbreak I'd been fighting off for the past twenty four hours finally set in.

Arnaud, who I've mentioned many times in this blog, has a knack for the guitar, and, as cliche as it
sounds, one of my favourite things he plays on his guitar is Wonderwall. Hearing this song reminded me on the uncountable number of nights everyone was huddled up beside a bonfire or squeezed into a kitchen, listening to Arnaud strum this very familiar song while we all mumbled the lyrics to ourselves as he played. These are good memories. They're happy. I wouldn't trade these nights or these memories for anything in the world.

But hearing Wonderwall being played by someone other than Arnaud for the first time in (literally!) almost a year made me realise that yesterday, before leaving for Finland, I said goodbye to some of the greatest people I'd ever met. And it wasn't a "hey I'll see you when I get back form Finland" goodbye. It was a "five minute but still not long enough embrace while we talk about how happy we are to have met one another and promise we'll see each other again one day" goodbye. I don't want to say it was a final goodbye, but... it kind of was.

It's an odd feeling, and I'm not sure how to describe it. Bittersweet is perhaps the closest I can get.

It's bittersweet. I've spent the last ten months of my life seeing these people on almost a daily basis. It's kind of hard to believe that it's all over - just like that. It wasn't like last semester, when everyone avoided talking about leaving; this semester was the exact opposite. Everyone was asking everyone when they were leaving then frantically trying to find ways to squeeze in as much time as possible with everyone before we all depart. There were lots of late nights and group selfies, everyone trying to soak in as many memories as possible.

It's weird knowing that when I go back to Sweden, most of my friends won't be there anymore. They'll be scattered across the world again, just as they were before they came into my life and changed it in every way possible. I don't know how I should expect to feel when I get back, but maybe it's better that way. Maybe it's best that I don't think about the fact that I'll be pretty much alone when I return to the place I now call home as long as possible and instead enjoy the time I have to spend in Finland because I have to say goodbye to some pretty amazing people when I leave Finland as well.

The next month is essentially one heartbreaking goodbye after another, I suppose.

Anyway, here's Wonderwall: