I don't want to break up

Ever since I passed the halfway mark of my stay here in England, everything's been tinged with a slight shade of obsession. Every experience here has tasted oh so sweet, and since the halfway point, I've become even more obsessed with everything.

The past two nights, however, I felt truly, deeply sad about leaving. I've known the end's been nearing for a while, but I'm already missing what I've barely felt.
Last night, I went out with my housemate and his beautiful, free-spirited, angsty friends to Ruby Tuesdays at the Origins Bar on campus. Ruby Tuesdays happens each Tuesday, and it's the one night a week they play only indie/alt/rock music all night -- right up my alley. As I was flailing my arms about, dancing to "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac (from one of my favorite albums ever), I couldn't help but throw my head back, smiling and wanting to cry. Every British or international/indie/hipster/angsty/'nobody understands me' kid was dancing around in lace-up boots, denim vests, indie band t-shirts, and freedom. I belonged. But at the same time, it felt like I was looking through a window at their world. I won't ever be a part of their world again, come two and a half week's time. This world was all I imagined a little British corner of the world to be. I finally got to live it, finally started finding my way around it. And now I have to leave it all behind. 

2.5 weeks. 

I'm crying- cue "Never Going Back Again"

And then tonight, out at Whetherspoon's, the cheap classic old student pre-drinking/hang out bar in town, drinking a sex-on-the-beach out of a paint can, admiring accents and fashion I'm not here long enough to have fully incorporated into my wardrobe, I felt myself peering in through the window again. 

I won't be here anymore.

This won't be my life. I'll never get to live these moments again. I barely started. I know I've lived the most of my experience, but I feel like I've barely started. 

I'm crying- cue anything from the Perks soundtrack (just watched it here, I didn't need anything else to make me a mess..)

Then there are my housemates, who've unobtrusively paved their way into my heart. My Swedish housemate and our deep talks, laughs, dreams- she's now my sister.  My French housemate, his loving ridiculous ways, his affection and unknowing humor- a brother. And the other two, the only freshman in the house, I've grown to admire their quirks, despite the fact that both of their cooking sends fumes into my upstairs bedroom, resulting in bacon-and-curry smelling clothing errday. These people are part of the stability in this British Uni life I've come to love. I can't leave them. AND TO THINK that someone else will be coming into my room, room D, and replacing me?? It's just absurd. I won't have it.

I've fallen hard and fast. I can't deal with this break up.