Farewells

I hate goodbyes. They're so final. They close the door on something and force you to move on. Goodbye means forever, eternal, no more. I have had so many goodbyes this year; so many "last" times. It depresses me greatly. Everytime I go through something else, I can't help but think this is the "last" time. All of my classmates see graduation as an exciting experience. They look to the future with hopeful grins. All I can do is look at what I'm leaving behind. All the people, the experiences, the memories, yes, even the work. I know that nothing will ever be the same ever again. It saddens me to no end. I hate it. Sometimes it depresses me so much, I feel like crying. I just have to ignore it and move on. The funny thing is, no one else seems to feel the same way. At graduation, everyone would come up and smile and hug and cry excitedly. I spent the entire time in a daze, trying to figure out why everyone was so excited. I hated every moment of graduation. I hated every time someone would send me a card telling me "congratulations!". Why are they congratulating me? I'M LEAVING. And I hate it. I look around my room and see trophies that weren't won, books that weren't read, A's that weren't achieved. I see faces in pictures that I will never see again. I see accomplishments that will never be achieved. I see opportunities never mastered. To me, graduation symbolizes death. Death of a life that will never be lived again.

All of this makes me feel empty. Completely empty. I force myself to smile and laugh and carry on but it's fake. false. delusional. almost maniacal sometimes. I feel crazy. I feel like screaming and collapsing. I feel like falling down and crying out until someone hears me. My disguise is so well placed that I don't even recognize my pain. I don't even understand how badly I hurt inside. And yet...why do I hurt? Why do I have pain? What trauma caused this utter despair that I feel?

Life hurts. It's part of being human. We're so fragile. So frail. So easily broken. Our minds are blindsided by strong emotions like rage and hurt. Everytime you turn on the tv, you see stories of people dying, killing one another in brutal ways and going insane. I hurt for my world. I hurt for the people I see on the street. I hurt for my friends. I hurt for my family. I just want it to stop. I want everyone to stop hurting, stop having trouble, stop crying. When will it ever stop?

"Maranatha!" my soul cries out in anguish. Oh, Lord. Maranatha is my cry.