Life is Full

AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's hard to realize that your departure can never be as important to others as it is to you.
As I approach leaving, it dominates my thoughts and actions. Everything I have done over this last week is directed towards my departure. But for those whose attention I hope to merit; for those whom I hope to engage, my departure cannot help but be of a minor significance.
Of the 30 or so people I invited out tonight, only one came. And Jon Golbe I dragged from his house. None of those I hoped to see, came out to see me.
Which makes sense. I understand it. It seems reasonable.
When I talked to Gus about his service in Honduras before I left Chicago, he told me that upon his return people wanted to hear 5 stories. 3 that made them laugh, 1 that made them cry, and one that showed how hard I worked. Beyond that, they did not possess the patience to really understand the reality of such an experience.
For me, this coming moment is everything. But for those whom I feel so impacted to be leaving...I am but one person amongst a life of many. I am a single light in a room of candles. And the extinguishing (to use dramatic terms) of one cannot really make too much of an impact on the light of all.
And though I can understand it, sitting tonight in Pete's Candy Shop in Brooklyn; by myself; forgotten by my 3rd hand host ( the person whom I followed out after my first host had to go to bed and another had an audition to practice for) I saw that this is one of my last nights to be here. One of my last night's to be in this life and surrounded by those who know me and enjoy me, and I sat, forgotten, in a dark and declining bar.
I felt like crying. Crying for myself and crying out for the lost significance of this moment for me.
I have less nights left than can count on a single hand... and yet I sat alone tonight. And there was no one to help me build this moment into a powerful and caring moment for my future memory.
I haven't felt all that sad yet. But I was deeply wounded tonight.
I was wounded to find that beyond no one understanding my return, no one seems quite able to really resonate as I do with my departure. I came here to feel filled; to enjoy and relish the experience of being with those I loved.
Instead I find myself - at least this evening - as lonely as if I had already left. I feel I have left already...and saddest of all; no one seems to have noticed.

I have left my parents and the city of my birth. I won't see them again for a long while.
I have packaged my life into bags and boxes and stored them or put them on my back.
I have jettisoned the parts of my life that seemed unnecessary.
I won't see my dog again for years.
Even if my family comes to visit, they won't bring him.

But so far, nothing. No real tears or disconnects. No overwhelming emotions.
The closest thing is the stomach twirling anticipation and excitement I feel to be engaged in another big adventure. A truly unknown journey.
Which may also be why I don't have much of a sense of loss yet.
The past few weeks, I have made real efforts to apply significance to what I saw or ate, to who I was with or where we were. All such efforts have failed.
It does not seem possible for me to simply decide to make a moment meaningful or memorable. I cannot summon up the emotions that would seem to be appropriate for the last time I see the puppy or my mother or father.
I am not particularly worried about it. It seems more like a strange but not unpleasant smell. I noticed it periodically, but don't really dwell on it or feel there is much to be done about it.
As I approach the cliff edge, I continue to inventory my bag, making sure I have enough magazines for the free fall.
So denial might be a good description of this emotional void.
It will hit me when it needs to. I will be fine.