Why is this goodbye so hard?

This Patrick and I started to dissect in the car outside my house. Some friends from Irvine, including Melody, joined us in Walnut for a last hurrah before my flight back to Queens. As we stood in an uneven circle that left larger gaps between myself and those adjacent to me, I noticed them all looking to me to say something conclusive, some sort of goodbye speech. "Man, I thought we were just getting dinner" I said to myself. That lack of closure stayed with me for the rest of the night.

I felt like I thought through this trip well enough. I was going to come back, pop out a cake, dance a jig, have a marathon of one-on-one's and leave having spent my time both wisely and vigorously. And I got it--most of it, I knocked out most of the goals I had for this two-week crunch, even had a couple I didn't expect. I fly out today. Granted I made a last-minute flight change to fly out 2 days earlier than I originally planned, but even if I made it all the way to Saturday, and had the pleasure of watching the girl with the hoop earring walk down the congratulatory aisle of graduation, for some reason I think it would still feel premature.

The sense of urgency of an ephemeral visit is a double-edged sword. On one hand I dig deeper into my conversations with little to no introduction, justifying myself with the fact that we won't get another opportunity like this for months. This has been more fruitful than I imagined, the kind of openness and reflection present at these dialogues was astounding, though I should also give credit to the heightened emotions of the school year's end. But I didn't take into account the consequences, the fact that strengthening bonds makes them harder to leave behind. What a silly underestimation, one that I hope will not undo any the progress made.

I have to leave for the airport now, there's no more time to write. Funny...I still don't know how to end this.