“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”

-Anatole France

I graduated, and I was a mess. I was hot, I was hungry, I was exhausted, I was inundated with family. My grandfather was angry that my father was there. My mother and father, my stepmother and stepfather were all in the same room (and getting along!). A journey was ending. They messed up my honors level when they called my name out. Everybody wanted me to decide where to eat. The traffic was horrendous. I didn’t have any clue of where I’d be and where I’d be going in a few months time and this was completely counter to what I had planned for four years.

So I had a big temper tantrum once I got back to my apartment and discovered I had left the key inside. Just imagine a grown-ass woman throwing her heels at the pavement and screaming like a child before collapsing on the sidewalk in frustration.

“You know,” my mother quipped, “for a college graduate, you sure don’t act like one.”

Well, I mean, she was right. I’m pretty sure I was cranky because I hadn’t had enough sleep, or any breakfast, and I was just too tired of thinking of my yet-to-be-decided future. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to answer the question, “What are you doing now?” with “I’m going back,” not, “Oh, well, you know, I’m sending out resumes. But you know, hehe, with this economy…” I felt like I had wasted the last year of my life because I had hoped for something to happen, but it didn’t. I had skipped out on hanging out with friends because I was preparing for a year that wouldn’t happen. I had forgotten to enjoy my last year of college, because I was too busy looking to a future that didn’t seem like it was going to be happening.

I sat and told this to my father, the night before he left. I sipped the mojito I had ordered, clumsily, because I was 22 and yet still awkward at bar etiquette. The condensation dripped down the glass as I confided in him the frustration I felt in feeling like I deserved a lot more than I was getting. He told me he felt the same, but everybody feels that way, when they graduate. You don’t get the dream job right out of school. I didn’t want to explain, for the last time, that this wasn’t a dream job, even - it was the only job.

“I just don’t want this year to be a waste,” I complained. “I know the smart thing is to stay here and save up, and try again next year, but if I do that I just feel like I’ll be waiting for my life to start.”

“I think that’s exactly the right idea,” he agreed. He was what I needed, that night, listening to me complain and gently encouraging me to keep trying. That seemed to be what everyone was doing, and maybe it made it hurt worse that everyone believed in me so much and still I couldn’t do what I was supposed to be doing. It will happen someday, they reassurred, but I wanted it to happen now. This happened because you can get through it! they reasoned, and I just thought, I know that. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I just couldn’t think about Japan any longer. I just couldn’t keep hoping for something to happen that wouldn’t. It hurt so much to think of how much I wanted to go back yet nobody seemed to want me. I didn’t want to study Japanese, I didn’t want to think about Japanese, I didn’t want anything to do with it. I didn’t want to give up, but I needed a break. I would destroy myself if it continued on much longer.

So I decided to play video games, I decided to do stuff that didn’t really have anything to do with Japan. I spent a night in Atlantic City, lazing around in white sheets and sleeping all day. I looked out onto the cloudy, breezy sting of the ocean, and thought, would I even be able to cross the ocean this year? I ran out into the frigid water, my skirt fluttering, and tried not to think about it. I kicked water at some birds, and I walked back, squeezing my boyfriend’s hand in mine. He was the only thing that made these last few months bearable, and he didn’t have to do that. He was the most special thing in the world to me, yet I would have to leave him if my dreams came true. How did this happen? How did I let myself become so polarized from the life I wanted and the life that I had?

I had one last chance, I thought, to get to Japan. I had an interview at the end of the month, to teach English, maybe in some rural area, my last chance to get back for the rest of the year. I had to go all the way to Boston, I had to spend the night in a hotel alone, but I didn’t care. If this didn’t work out, then I really would be here for a long while, so I might as well do my best. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen - I purposely put Japan out of my mind in the weeks leading up to it, because I didn’t want to freak out. Better to expect the worst, and be pleasantly surprised, rather than be crushed when once again something didn’t work out.

I made the long drive, listening to my ipod, sipping coffee. I felt good, I felt better than I had in a long time. I liked taking trips - I hadn’t gone this far on my own since I had been in Japan. Maybe I’d get back there, I smiled. I didn’t care how I did it anymore. In the beginning, I had been distraught because I was better than teaching English. I raged because I thought I’d have to waste a year of my life. I’m not that arrogant anymore, because apparently I wasn’t fit for any of it. Teaching English in a small town with no support system sounded awesome to me now. Who cares what I was supposed to be doing when all I really wanted, at the end of the day, was to be back. I had completely and utterly accepted the JET results and felt, hey. I’m on the road to getting over this, and moving on.

I checked into my hotel, still early. I played some video games on my computer. I ran out to a grocery store and got some sushi, for good luck. I finished up my preparations for my interview, and around 9 I thought, I’ll just check my email and watch some tv before I go to bed. I switched on What Not to Wear and watched Mayim Bialik stalk around in hippie clothes for a few minutes before I clicked on Gmail. “Oh Blossom, we all have to start wearing big girl clothes eventually,” I laughed and looked back at my screen.

Months after I had given up any hope of ever seeing it in my inbox, I saw a message : Congratulations Amanda Krips, you have been upgraded to a 2009 JET CIR.

I hyperventilated and started crying right then and there. What? What? No way? I called Jon, I called my mother, Holly called me. JET…happened? After all this, after I was so sure it wouldn’t happen this year, what with the economy, and the amount of alternates, and the fact that there had already been an upgrade for NY and I had just completely given up - I was upgraded. I was going to Japan for certain, through JET, as a CIR, doing what I wanted to do. I sat in my little hotel room, 6 hours away from everyone I knew, and I thought, what was this? Was the last two months just a trial I had to pass so I could realize just how lucky I was going to have it? Was it so I would realize that I had to keep thinking about the future so that I wouldn’t be caught again like I was this time? Was it so I would realize what it was I really wanted to do, rather than sitting fat and happy on JET and not really thinking about what I’d do with my life?

I don’t know, but it happened. It was a Friday night, so I couldn’t call the consulate to confirm, and I still had an interview the next day so I had to try to put it out of my mind for at least a little while. I got four hours of sleep that night. I sat, and I shook. Was I really going back? It couldn’t be. Something had to go wrong. I wasn’t going to let myself get excited for something that wasn’t set in stone yet. I couldn’t take it if it wasn’t. It just didn’t seem real that after all this I was actually going to get to go on JET, like I planned. It didn’t seem like I could be that lucky.

But I called Monday morning, and it was confimed. I’m upgraded, and I’m going to Japan. I don’t know where, and I’m not sure quite when yet (is it July 25? Is it later? I don’t know! I don’t care~!), but I’m going. I’m going! Everyone said, we knew it was going to happen, but I sure didn’t. You know what, they really didn’t either. But I’m going, and I realize now just what a gift this really is, and how I really have to make the most of it. I’m luckier than most, and I really can’t waste this. I’m going to promise myself that, and all of you. I don’t know if I’ll ever get an opportunity like this again.

The only thing I have to angst about now is how I have to leave everybody. But let me digest this for a couple more days. It still doesn’t feel real, and I don’t know when it will.

It’s certainly different than the last time I got to go, I will say that much.