careful what you wish for

It's been a while since I was able to blog. Life surprised me in one of the hardest ways and kept me occupied, stressed and completely reprioritising for a while. As much as I wish not to write about all of these events they have a consequence for the blog other than there being a few months of silence. I will be leaving the island of St. Martin. Going to my next place, for the moment unknown. Thus the blog will shortly come to a natural end.
Those who have followed my entries know that although I've tried hard to be an optimist I never really felt I fitted in. I didn't directly express wanting to leave but I think it was clear for the sensitive readers, my attempts of making St. Martin a home were giving poor effects. Now that I know I am leaving for sure and for good, I feel like I have not done all I wanted to. And there will probably be no time to squeeze in what's not yet ticked off. There were places I haven't gone to, food I haven't tasted, events I haven't participated in. The pain of most likely not experiencing these things is somehow double; for one I won't know what it's like - just for myself, won't enrich my exposure, my senses, my observations, I will feel less fortunate for not having my own opinion on x, y, z; and secondly, I won't be able to write about it here, in other words, I won't fully analyse it, digest it, put it into carefully considered words and share through the blog. This makes me sad.
I am as strong believer in that all things happen for a reason and that, oh well, if for example I did not go scubadiving here in St. Martin, this is just an excellent opportunity to make it up elsewhere, ect., ect. I won't have a number of experiences here I wish I had had, simultanously I'll be having others I did not anticipate, in a different place. Life is always full of events, so here or there, something will be happening to you, if not a, then b.
Since I know I won't be able to make up for time lost in the future, rather than planning on doing just certain most desirable things, I will most likely frantically catch the opportunity and jump at random activities that pop into my mind. After all if I end up leaving for good without having done something, I will only after realise, I really wanted to do, St. Martin will still be here 10, 20 and 30 years from now.
How does it feel to know to be leaving? It feels as if even though, this is what subconciously my mind wanted all along, it's too soon, too unexpected and too violent, like I'm too little in control and like this is not the way I wanted it.
I will probably have some more gaps in writing, I'll prefer to focus on final experiencing and picture taking; I'll be able to do my writing ex post from the next 'home'.