Sunset over Kaohsiung

I could just see it through the opening between the parking garage pillars of the HSR: streaks of orange and magenta transforming the Kaohsiung sky into a bowl of rainbow sherbet. Though I knew that time was of the essence, and that we needed to get downstairs and get my bags taken care of, I couldn't help but pause: this would be my last Kaohsiung sunset.

As I write this, it's still July 11th, and it's still sunset--but I am now waiting for my final flight in SeaTac airport after an 11-hour flight, and it's almost 9pm, not just before 7. Time zones and day-length differences strike again.

I teared up twice on my journey: once, just a few minutes after I saw the sunset in Kaohsiung, as I said goodbye to the world's best host family; and once, about an hour ago, as I caught my first glimpse of American soil. And that pretty much sums it up: tears on both ends, for both reasons. Happy and sad. Good and bad. C'est la vie.

As I am, now, officially in America for good, I am no longer 百合, and so this blog has come to an end. Going forward, I will still blog, but less frequently, and on subjects which have yet to be determined. Nonetheless, though it's empty now, here's a link to my new blog, for whenever I begin posting about my more-mundane life Stateside.

I'll cherish forever my time in Taiwan; I truly cannot imagine where I would be had I not gone; I don't want to think about a version of my life in which I hadn't met all the amazing people and had all the amazing experiences that I have met and had over the past year. But all good things must end; even the most perfect day has a sunset, followed by darkness.