And The Days Go On…

…with an intensity and rapidity of pace that never cease to stupefy. With  the last week of university comes the need to confront memories of five years gone by, of people who have come in and gone out of my life, of numerous classes, Professors, department canines, cups and cups of iced tea at Milon-da’s. How do you say goodbye? How do you bid adieu? More importantly, is it necessary to feel excessively sad and morose at college-days coming to an end? Call me detached, accuse me of not having been too wound up with college life (certainly not as much as many others I know), but I’m not bogged down by sadness. Of course, it’s the end of another phase, the passing of a milestone – I’m going to miss certain people whom I’ve grown to love just like family, but I’m also so excited about what lies ahead. And even though I have no idea what lies ahead, I’m still excited.

Because that’s life. With every goodbye comes a hello. Sometimes the hello comes immediately, sometimes it doesn’t. But it’s always there, waiting in the wings, waiting to make its entry. If there’s anything that I’ve learnt in  life, it’s that everything is transient. This too shall pass. Everything passes. Ecstatic moments, sorrowful times, grief and despair, anger and resentment – everything eventually makes its exit, makes way for new things, new people, new emotions.

So while I’m sad about the last five years coming to a close, about saying goodbye to a place that I’ve grown to love, I’m equally excited about stepping forward. That’s really what keeps me going – the need to look in front.  Because a hello always holds such promise. And with my last goodbye, the goodbye that caused me such anguish, I’ve said hello to so much – I’ve discovered Margaret Atwood and Thomas Hardy, have fallen in love with Moby, Florence + The Machine, John Mayer, and Otis Redding, have realised that some relationships are non-negotiable and that I must not dwell on the insignificant, and lastly – I’ve learnt that I must never, ever lose to life.