Well.
Here we are.
My bags are (mostly) packed, my worldly possessions from a year of living, working, playing in this medieval city reduced to one suitcase, and two backpacks. I've given away books, prized spices, and an inexplicable amount of sugar. I still have a to-do list a mile long-- on it are thrilling errands such as: charity shop, bank, any library books???, send final letters, check in tomorrow morning. It's funny how your life can be reduced to such a laundry list of banalities. The next inhabitant of room 206 will never know how long I sat at this desk (now returned to its original position), working on my dissertation. They'll never know how many times I rearranged the furniture, much to the bemusement of my downstairs neighbours (at least three times). They'll never now how often I walked across the hall to annoy/coerce/persuade Mimi to play cards, meander about the town, or check my appalling grammar (more times than I can even count). I can only hope that they'll be as lucky to find such an amazing friend across from them. Unfortunately, Mimi and I have decided to leave my second wardrobe in her room, so they won't have an immediate way to break the ice. Then again, they might not be the kind of person who needs a(n entirely fabricated) reason to talk to strangers.
But hopefully the future resident of 206 will share some of my experiences. They will find people with common interests, write essays, read books, pay overdue library fines at least once. They will walk the city walls on their way to the grocery store, just because they can. They will drink a single pint in several pubs in the course of one evening. They will drink a yard of ale, or watch their friends attempt it. As a result, they will be ruined for beer for the rest of their lives, knowing that Northern beer is the only option. And they will miss home sometimes, but by the end of the year, they will not possibly think that there is anywhere else in the world they could ever want to be.
This year, this city, these people have changed me in ways I never thought possible. I used to joke that I must have suffered brain injury because I became such a different person when I came here. But I think that, in truth, I had a chance here in York to be who ever I wanted to be. I spent the last four years of my life trying to decide what that person would be, and here I could put into practice. And I found yet another group of people who were supportive of me and my dreams. And when you have that kind of support coming from all over the world--from Colorado, from the Northwest, from Australia--it can really change how you approach life.
I don't think I can ever be described as a laid back person by any means. And while LC certainly did a lot to mellow me, I still am quite stubborn and determined. York has challenged me and given me a place to express that determination. I've been pushed far outside of my comfort zone, but I've realised that I can handle it. And while the future is looming ominously, I still feel in control of my life and my career. And while I'll never be laid back, and while I'll never like uncertainty, change, or transition, at least I've finally come to accept that fact.
I wish I could adequately express how much this year has meant to me, but I know I will fall short. So I'll just say that this year as been more than I could have ever hoped for, and that it has changed me for the better. I can only hope to live up to it.
