I hate saying goodbye.
As I climbed into bed last night, once again I was fighting back tears. This time though, they weren’t ‘completely on the edge of a stress related breakdown’ tears. I guess you could say they were happy tears. But they weren’t really, they were sad tears. What they definitely were was ‘tipsy after a couple of drinks and an awesome night’ tears. They were goodbye tears. The ones where you remember silly things and laugh, but then you realise you may never get to do those things again and your chest aches.
Over the last few months I’ve become extremely friendly with someone in final year. We went for drinks together last night to celebrate the end of her exams. It was cute. It was very very cute and I really enjoyed myself. But although I know I’ll see her once or maybe twice more before she leaves, I really don’t want her to go. She’s made the last few months of uni so much more fun, and so much easier. She’s cared about me, and while she’s dragged me into all sorts of things that I never intended to spare my time for, she’s absolutely lovely.
She’s the girl who I said I wanted to be like in a few years time. After a night of laughter, I was sad when I got into bed last night. I don’t want to say goodbye, and whilst I cannot wait to see her again in a few weeks, I know that will be the final time, and I’m just not ready for it yet.
I’m struggling with words tonight. My head is all colours and patterns and I know I might struggle to control my thoughts and sleep. Why do people have to leave? Why do we have to grow up?
I hate saying goodbye. And if I’m feeling this weird about it now, I know I’ll be an absolute mess when the tine comes to say goodbye forever.