I don’t like thinking about the idea of you quitting or transferring schools but when you said goodbye with those sad eyes, I couldn’t help but believe in the possibility that today could be the last time I’ll be seeing you.
Our frequent interactions these past few months have gotten me to know you past your aloof demeanor and I have discovered what an interesting chap you are. You are smart, talented, skeptical, and a little bit of a jerk sometimes, but that’s alright. We all have our bad sides. You have a grim sense of humor. You have good taste in music. You get cranky under pressure. You have impossible standards. When you don’t care, you don’t care. When you’re angry, you really get angry. You are candid and transparent and I think that is what sets you apart.
I wrote a few weeks ago about my willingness to leave should it be time for our trajectories to part under the context of me being the one who leaves. Now that the tables have turned, suddenly I don’t feel so ready having you go. I suppose it does feel different when you’re the one leaving than being the one left behind. But who am I to you anyway? I am just a classmate.
See you soon, you added softly after I turned around to go.
I heard you.
Should I have turned around?
Yes, see you. I hope we see each other again.