I woke up in the middle of the night, went into our living room and cried in the dark for a few hours. I’m mourning Taiwan and I haven’t even left yet.
It’s now June, the month we leave Taiwan. The move is no longer 6 months away, or 3 months away, or even next month. The move is next week. Our days are now numbered in the single digits.
I’m trying to hold it together.
Sitting alone in the dark and lacking sleep, one’s mind can go to crazy places. What if I refuse to go? Will the State Department handcuff me or drug me or drag me onto the plane kicking and screaming? What’s their policy on this kind of thing? Surely I wouldn’t be the first person to refuse to leave a post.
With the sunrise came the realization that it’s inevitable. A week from Monday I have to get on a plane. There’s no getting out of it. I’m afraid I will have shed a bucket of tears between now and then. For the sake of those around me, I’ll do my best to shed those tears in privacy of my bedroom or my shower or my living room in the dark. But I’m sure a few tears will escape in public; so I’ll apologize in advance.