Last weekend, I went visiting a friend of mine who had given birth recently to a beautiful baby-boy. At least, that was the intention, for it turned out many of my friends had gathered for a surprise good-bye party. Which was… great! I mean, I’ve always wanted to have people throw me a surprise party : it seemed so cool to have people organise something for me. Apart from having a fun party for which I wouldn’t have to do a thing (more on the contrarary, if I would be helping out, there would hardly be a point in it being a surprise party), the idea of my friends going through all that effort and secrecy just for me to have a good time really gives a boost. And once I got over the first shock it was just amazing (though frustrating cause you kinda wanna talk to everybody but obviously that is just impossible), but I must say, if you expect a baby and instead you get bunch of smiling friends and a camera in your face – it leaves you baffled. And happy ;).
But. There’s always a but. Because when you get home, thinking of “your” evening, of all these people, at that very moment it strikes you. Why those people were there. Why they went through all that trouble and secrecy. Not because I’m such a wonderful person who deserves a surprise party now and then (which I obviously do), but because I’m leaving. It was a goodbye party. I won’t be seeing most of these people again for a year, maybe even two years. It is not like the decision has been made there and then, that I would be leaving, that decision has long been made. But I feel like I only realise it now, like only now I FEEL what I’m about to do: leave my friends, family, partner, cat, house, … behind for a considerate amount of time and start a new project on my own. And it’s damn scary.
A World of Lies 