This Sucks

This post was written on Wednesday 6 May, the day after I said goodbye to the Lorraine, and the day before I boarded my flight home. Reading it now, it definitely feels like an angsty teenage journal entry, but at the time, it was very much how I felt.
-----------------------------------------------------
I'm currently sitting in a hotel room in Roissy, France, just outside of Paris, listening to French commentary of the UEFA semi-final between Chelsea and Barcelona (only 25 minutes in, and there's already been a "Zizou" mention), as one last sun sets over France. I can see flights taking off from Charles de Gaulle airport and I know that tomorrow, I'll be on one of them. I'm not even sure if the fact that I'm leaving my adopted country has hit me yet. However, these last few days have been full of goodbyes and "last" everythings.

On Monday, Clotilde, Béatrice and I ate lunch together for the last time in the cantine (and probably the last time together ever--Clotilde's position will be terminated next year). The proviseur and the school gave me a book (ugh, yet another book to pack!)--L'histoire de France pour les nuls. Béatrice and Clotilde also gave me a present--real, genuine, famous faïence from Lunéville. I cried (of course).

Tuesday, I went to visit my secondes for the last time, mainly to take pictures of all my kids (they're the only classes that I've worked with for the entire year) and to say goodbye to Clotilde. As I entered, a few yelled "I love you forever Mélissa!" to which I replied "I love you too!" I know they were joking/trying to be funny, but I was dead serious. In the afternoon, Béatrice took me to the train station. The 5-minute ride there was really nice; she drove past the château and told me how nice it was this year and that her family might possibly visit Wisconsin one day, etc. She helped me load my stuff on the train, but told me that she had to leave "before I start to cry." This, of course, made me burst into tears, so I took my seat, pulled on my shades (it wasn't a sunny day) and silently sobbed as Lunéville rolled past me. The hits just kept on coming. I got one last kebab from the best kebab joint in Nancy. Tuesday night was my final night out in the city. Of course, at the end of the night, I cried as I was saying goodbye to everyone. I finally realized that this really is probably the last time I'll see most of my friends from this year. In fact, its the first time in a long time that I remember crying myself to sleep.

Which brings me to the title of this post. There are certain people that read this blog who really hate the use of the word "suck" in this context. But really, its the only appropriate phrase to convey how I've felt this week. I've tried "It stinks" or "Why, I do not fancy these emotions at all!" and even some expressions that I really can't publish, but nothing else perfectly explains how I feel right now. Please don't say "Well, aren't you excited to come home at all?" Of course I am, you know that. But unless you've gone through what I've gone through this year--unless you've been here--you'll never know just how much these last few moments suck. A lot.