Never ending love

Leaving

 "I promise to love you forever and always," I confessed, tears streaming down my cheeks as I slipped into the back seat of the car. Each drop felt like a drop of nostalgia, washing over me as memories of our time together flooded my mind. Leaving him behind to chase my dream of attending law school and playing in my dream netball team across the country looked like a tall mountain. Yet, I understood that this path was crucial for me to pursue my goals—even if it meant saying goodbye to the person who had become so integral to my life.

I pressed my hand against the window, and to my bittersweet surprise, he mirrored my gesture. His palm felt warm against the cold glass, a tender reminder of all the moments we had shared. As I looked into his eyes, I desperately wished for time to freeze, hoping that this moment could stretch into infinity—even when deep in my heart, I knew it was impossible.

As the car began to pull away, it felt as though my heart was being yanked straight out of my chest. I could only gaze longingly out the window, praying that somehow, time would pause and he would come racing toward me. The city lights outside blurred into streaks of color, and every turn of the familiar streets tugged at my heartstrings, each corner a canvas painted with our laughter and love. I found myself reminiscing about our shared moments: the echoes of our laughter in the cozy coffee shop, the furtive glances exchanged in the park beneath the autumn trees, and those endless late-night talks, wrapped in each other's warmth under a star-studded sky,helping me train for my netball tornaments. Each memory pulled at my heart like a delicate thread, gently trying to draw me back to him.

As the airport approached, my stomach churned with anxiety and sorrow. The towering terminal building loomed ahead, filled with bustling travelers and glaring neon signs, making it feel less like a gateway to new adventures and more like a prison from which I was trying to escape. I longed to flee, to stay enveloped in his embrace for just a few moments longer, but the reality was that I was already so far away, and I hadn't even boarded the plane yet.

After what felt like an eternity, I settled into a chair, anxiously waiting for my boarding number to be called. Just then, a boy with brown wavy hair and ocean-blue eyes settled into the seat beside me. He introduced himself as Brian, but quickly added that his friends called him Brino—something he clearly didn't prefer. I couldn't help but laugh at the moment, and I introduced myself in return. "Hi, I'm Nova. My friends call me Novs too, but I don't particularly like it either."

When my boarding number was finally announced, I stood up to leave but was momentarily caught off guard when Brian exclaimed, "Wait! I'm on that plane too!" The coincidence surprised me, but out of politeness, I pushed away any questions about why he was heading to the same destination.

"Where are you sitting?" he asked, and I replied, "B27."

"Aw, that's a shame! I'm in A13," he beamed. Suddenly, something impulsive bubbled up within me. "I have a boyfriend," I blurted out without thinking. It wasn't that I thought he was hitting on me; I just needed to clarify my boundaries.

To my surprise, he turned beet red and quickly replied, "Don't worry; I have a boyfriend too! Sorry if I gave off the wrong impression." The admission diffused my initial awkwardness, but I felt a twinge of embarrassment for having assumed otherwise.

Settling into my seat, I felt the weight of anxiety press heavily on me. Being so far away from everyone I loved was daunting. What if my roommate and I didn't get along? What if I found myself feeling utterly alone? Just then, I remembered my breathing exercises, and I started taking deep breaths, aware that spiraling into worry would only lead to a panic attack.

As the plane ascended into the luminous blue sky, I gazed out the window, watching my homeland diminish beneath a quilt of fluffy clouds. A swirl of excitement mixed nervously with the bittersweet taste of leaving my past behind as I prepared to embrace an unknown adventure in a new city. The thought of immersing myself in a different culture and language filled me with both exhilaration and trepidation.

Hours passed quickly as I lost myself in movies, snacks, and futile attempts to focus on my textbooks. Yet, as the steady droning of the plane engines slowly faded and the seatbelt sign illuminated, exhaustion washed over me. My mind buzzed with possibilities, but fatigue pulled at my limbs, whispering sweet promises of rest just as the plane finally touched down. Anticipation for this new chapter in my life draped over me like a cozy blanket, reminding me that I would need to recharge for the adventures that lay ahead.

Standing in the walkway of the collage, I was overwhelmed by a collage of my dreams. I had finally made it—after long hours of traveling and relentless effort to get into this prestigious school, my journey had led me here. As I walked towards the school office, my heart raced with excitement at how far I had come and how much awaited me. I approached the receptionist with a hopeful smile. "Hi, my name is Nova Esther, and I'm wondering what dorm I've been assigned to."

"Here you go, lovely," she said with a warm smile. "You are in room 328." My heart fluttered as I navigated the elevator to the fifth floor, where a sign read rooms 300-350. The thrill of meeting my roommate mingled with the fatigue that reminded me how ready I was to rest.

Reaching my door, I paused for a moment, soaking in the moment before stepping inside—so proud of how far I had come. But the initial excitement gave way to a wave of confusion as I entered the room for the first time. The soft glow of the overhead light unveiled an array of my roommate's belongings scattered about: clothes draped haphazardly over the desk chair, a half-packed suitcase leaning against the wall, and posters that seemed to anticipate lively conversations yet to come. The room felt eerily empty, almost like a silent echo of laughter that had yet to fill the space.

It was 11 p.m. instead of a lively welcome; I was met with an unsettling silence. I hesitated, caught between excitement and anxiety, my mind racing with questions about where my roommate could be at such an hour. Would she welcome me with open arms, or had I stepped into a curious mystery waiting to unfold? Despite the questions lingering in my mind, sheer exhaustion gripped me, urging me to surrender into sleep until morning would offer new beginnings and perhaps a friendly face alongside my own.