Bar None

WARNING: This post may include an egregious amount of sentimentality, open-heartedness and cliches. Continue at your own risk.
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This past week has been surprisingly devoid of anxiety, which is not what one would expect for a recently graduated young man who is particularly anxiety-prone and about to embark upon a year long journey in China, effectively putting into motion a dream which he has had for nearly a third of his life. In fact this week has been pretty breezy for this young man. At the start of the week, he thought all he wanted to do was have one last taste of the foods he would be deprived of for the next year. What a dope. Short-sighted, foolish, dopey boy. Thankfully, he wasn't limited by his imagination, and he ended up getting much more than he ever could have expected out of his final week in the States. He learned. He loved. He had the time of his life.

Now this young man, it should be noted, never took a creative writing class, so gracefully phasing from third- to first-person is not his forte (an understatement, if there ever was). He's not even sure if that's something taught in creative writing classes. So a painfully self-aware paragraph highlighting one of his many shortcomings must, unfortunately, suffice. His name is Dan, and he is about to change the perspective from third-person - wait for it - to first. Huzzah.

I have a hard time approaching anything sentimental without some degree of comedy. Some of you experienced my overly hysterical fake-crying or my awkward attempts to crack jokes upon our recent goodbyes - others must use their imaginations. I find it easier to make shitty jokes than say "I'm so bad at goodbyes!", but I think it's a cop-out nonetheless. The urge to do that, however, undoubtedly derives from my inability to sufficiently express the affection for the people I'm saying goodbye to. And though it's tough for me to show, you should all know that I have an incredible amount of love for all of you who made it a point to make yourselves present this weekend. There are some of you out there who couldn't make it in person or could only come by for a couple of minutes, but my love for those of you who fall into this camp is no less strong or genuine. I was overwhelmed by the affection I received these past two weeks, so much so that my heart (or for the more literal among you, my "chest" or my "feeling area") still LITCHERALLY feels swollen. It has become inundated with love, friendship, joy, and I'm sure some of it has to be Red Dog. A better feeling in the world, there is not.

Now my first reaction to the ridiculous amount of love I received this week is that I just don't deserve it. I don't deserve my own party. I don't deserve friends driving down from Boston or coming in from NYC. I was just touched beyond comprehension by the unconditional displays of affection - I mean, I don't know when I've gone to such lengths just to be with a friend (except, obviously, Eunice my love). But I guess people don't "earn" or "deserve" friends or acts of friendship. In other words, one does not and should not calculate what one has done for them in order to figure out if something is worth doing for their friend. Like I said , it's straight-up unconditional. I think I have made that error before, giving myself excuses not to make the extra effort to be with a friend, and I regret every time I've done that. I regret it because I now know how good it feels to know you have people in your life that don't give a shit about your track record, and will be with you just for the sake of being with you. It's an unbelievable sensation, and it's something I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

I have an incredible collection of friends from all different areas of my life. Old and new, near and far. Seeing you all in one place lit up my heart and made me finally realize what a rich and beautiful life I have. It makes me that much sadder to leave you all for now, but wherever you end up, know this well: I'll find you. And you can thank yourselves for that.