이말 밖에는 못 해*

* = I can't say anything but this (ee-mal bakk-eh-neun mot-hae)

I'm a frequent browser of the blogosphere, and I recently came across the clever musings of a friend of a friend who is also living in Korea.  In addition to offering a clean and intelligent perspective on the country, he ended one entry with this line:  "I write because I can't afford therapy."

This probably isn't a completely original line, and I'm sure he's not the first person who found comfort in the written word where human intervention has failed.  I am not a professional blogger, and since I have more or less confirmation that almost nobody reads this thing anyway, I'd like to indulge my own need for clarity and peace of mind here.  As always, feel free to disregard.

It is not an understatement or even a novel statement to say that the year-long Light Fellowship is an entirely different beast than is the summer or even semester-long study abroad experience.  It requires, to more or less quote a past year-long Fellow, establishing a life here in practical ways that are not necessarily limited to the necessities of an alien registration card, bank account, cell phone contract, etc.  A life is certainly more than who you are on paper; it's more than a series of numbers.

I am not just a year-long Light Fellow, I am a recent Yale graduate whose study abroad experience has been interestingly merged with her adjustment to life as a graduate, also known as life in the real world as a real adult.  But in a lot of ways, this experience (at least for the summer) feels like a pause, or a delay before the "real world" actually claims me as one of its own.  Yes, I graduated; yes, I am technically no longer a Yale student.  But I am on a Yale Fellowship, and my connection to the university is by no means tenuous.  Aside from the fact that I won't be returning to New Haven come September, I "owe" Yale these blog posts, "owe" them passing marks in all of my classes, "owe" them this entire experience.  Not that I'm complaining about that; but it does have the effect of making my graduate status seem much less distinct.

Additionally, I have the simultaneously amazing and terrifying experience of having moved to this country with my two best friends and a whole host of wonderful people from Yale.  Their presence here is an incredible comfort during this adjustment period, but I suppose that for me, my June has essentially been everyone else from my graduating class' March.  No matter how much fun you are having, or how much you are enjoying your experience and the people around you, there is this horrible nagging feeling that time is slipping from you, the the inevitable separation is just around the corner.

Come August, Jung Min Unni will go back to Yale, Hayeon will go to China, and for the first time in our friendships, I don't know when I will be together with either of them again for any extended period of time.  It is absolutely horrifying (at least to me), that for the rest of our lives, our relationships may very well be buoyed by, if not entirely dependent on, email, phone calls every so often, and sporadic visits when our paths cross and we wind up in the same country or city.  I don't want it.  Why is change so frightening and unimaginable?

I'm afraid of being replaced, of fading into insignificance in their lives.  I'm afraid that promises are empty, that the busy pace of our lives will negate our desire to pick up the phone.  I am afraid of who I am without them, without familiarity surrounding me and supporting me.  It's terrible, and Jung Min Unni quite frankly told me last night that I have to learn to rely on myself and stand on my own two feet.  She is, of course, completely right; I just haven't the foggiest clue of how to begin teaching myself to let go.

If only it were as easy as memorizing a list of vocab words.  That can seem like a daunting task, especially if you are of poor memory, but it is quite literally the least of my problems right now.

Whining gets me nowhere, tears give way to more tears, and it's quite clear that the only thing to do is pick myself up and move forward, relying on a sense of confidence I don't think I have in myself and the people around me to keep up their end of whatever bargains we make.

If change is around the corner, I hope that it brings with it a change in my ability to cope.

부족한 마음이 있어서 용서해줘.  난 약속들 잘 기억할게.  먼곳에 있어도 영원히 사랑해줄게.