Less than 24 minutes until we leave Seoul for the ferry port in Incheon, where an under-sized bunk bed will be my sleeping arrangements for the night. Seventeen hours on the Yellow Sea until reaching the shores of Qingdao.
I’m leaving Korea. Again. And I’m not coming back. Maybe. I’ve said that three times before.
This wacky place has become my most-lived home in my adult years. This place I love to love and love to hate. This place where I’ve celebrated my 24, 26, 27, 29 and 30th birthdays.
What I will miss the most:
Friends who have become real-life best friends
Un-pushing elevator button numbers
Constant praise of my language skills after only saying “thank you.”
Haeundae in the spring/fall
Ordering buttons on restaurant tables
Orange plastic bags at Lotte Giants games
Innisfree (and all their glorious nail polish choices)
Not thinking about rent
And you know who
What I will miss the least:
The pushing, oh the pushing
Cutting in lines
Haeundae in the summer
Stares when I’m not in the mood
Constantly saying goodbye to friends
That’s all I can think of for now.
I leave in 7 minutes.