Clothes strewn across the floor
Boxes lining the walls.
There's an echo in the living room
That wasn't there before.
The walls have been painted white
And the carpets have all been rolled up.
The feeling of home has evaporated,
Leaving behind the feeling of eternal rush
Thinking that there isn't enough hours in enough days
To finish getting everything in their boxes.
Piles of books and junk fill the room
Blocking paths to and fro.
Empty walls reminders that it's time to leave.
Dust swirling up in the air,
A constant warning that time is flying by.

Finally the emotions sink in:
This is the final week in a foreign country
That has been home for the past nine years.
It's time to return to a birth country
That was only a vacation home
That has long faded from memory.
Knowing that good-byes are only days away
Even hours
Pulls at the heart, unleashing the tears.
A sinking feeling sets in;
This is the last time,
For many years,
That travelling Asia will ever be so easy.
The last time this country will contain "home"
But not the last time it will call to the heart.
It will call and call but there will only be yearning
And longing but not action.
Who knows when this country will get its way?
Maybe a couple of years
Or maybe never
But the thought of leaving
Is just too hard to deal with.
With only days left
And the packers on the way,
The good-byes are looming.

I don't want to say good-bye again.
I don't want to leave my home.
I don't want to pack up my room.
I don't want to get rid of half my stuff.
I don't want to stop traveling Asia.
I don't want to lose my friends.
I don't want to go to college in America.
I don't want to miss out on the amazing foods here.
I don't want to decide what to take and what to leave.
I don't want to sell my books.
I don't want to acknowledge that I'll never see some of these people again.
I don't want to move another time.

With three days left
I have to finish packing.
But the tears keep threatening to burst free.
How do I say good-bye?
How can I leave my home?
Moving can be such a pain.