Before you ask: yes, I cried.

Although this may seem a bit random, I loved the weather during my last few days. Selfishly, it suited how I was feeling and it made me feel like everything around me was saying goodbye..

The last three days or so were spent writing long letters to everyone in class, and taking one billion pictures. I also went and visited each of my classrooms in elementary school, and took pictures with most of my old teachers. I went to the Junior Library, where I had spent so much of my time discovering the Little Men books, The Famous Five, The Baby Sitters Club, Sweet Valley Twins, and finally Nancy Drew before I moved to the big library on the other side of the campus. I visited the Western Music Room, and nothing had changed, not even songs the teacher (who taught me) was teaching the class that was in session then!

The playground. I looked at the wooden bridge that I would look at when I was younger and wish that I was taller so I could duck under it ( which in my 6-year-old mind signified that I had “grown up”). I looked at the slide with its lovely green railings, which was always the more preferable way of getting down compared to the “Batman Pole”. I looked at the large rubber tyres, and remembered the game we used to play where one person handled the “controls” (imaginary of course) and another would spin the person in the tyre depending on the “speed” they chose ( slow, medium, fast, extra fast).

And then there was Senior School. Our beloved Cherry Tree had to be unfortunately chopped down because of an infestation of termites, so our usual hangout spot during classes felt bare and open. I walked down the corridor that led from my locker to the classes, and it struck me that I will never be able to stop and chat with people while making my way to class again.

Clearing out my locker, for the last time , was an emotional ordeal. My locker (like my room) was always a perpetual mess, yet I always knew exactly where which book was. While pulling out stuff, I found a number of notes (which had been passed during those put-you-to-sleep lessons) and it hurt to think I would never be able to pass another note during Socio class again..

“Welcome to the real world”, she said to me
Condescendingly
Take a seat
Take your life
Plot it out in black and white

– “No Such Thing” by John Mayer