My Poetry

bitter sweet

I feel like I need to make sense of it all. I feel like I need to savour these moments. I feel like they are slipping away. They have slipped away. Bitter sweet is the perfect paradox to explain my feelings.

Truth is I don't understand my feelings, or more so how I'm supposed to feel. I catch myself often thinking 'I won't ever do this again' or 'I will never see this again'. I'm desperately trying to hoard these moments because I know people say they are precious.

I find myself in the moment thinking about how this moment will soon be a fond memory. I need to remember this. I feel disconnected. I feel as though I'm reading a book about someone leaving the past behind or maybe even watching a movie. It doesn't feel real. I know I'll never see these people as I see them now. All the people I have spent everyday with for the past six years will inevitably become 'people I went to school with'. I'll use phrases like 'oh yeah, we were in the same class' or 'we sat next to each other in English', whether I like it or not we will drift apart.

As I think about the stuff I'll never see again or experience my heart is heavy. The end of one of the main stages of my life. Did I do it right? Will I look back with longing for the simpler days or regret for holding myself back. I don't know. Only time will tell.

Saying goodbye is bitter sweet. People cry, people laugh some people might not even say goodbye. Saying goodbye is hard but also satisfactory. That's what we have been waiting for right? Six years spent getting ready for the day we leave.

Six years. A third of my life never felt so fast. We pass all the days knowing in the back of our minds that one day will be our last. But of course we ignore it, what sort of life would that be? Perhaps a life like mine in the past two weeks. The constant reminder that we are leaving had left me desperate to remember every second.

We were asked to recount our favourite memories from our time here. You'd be surprised how much you forget but it's almost worth it when someone retells the story and you experience all the feelings again, whether they are sad or happy.

Silly memories like people falling off chairs, phones going off in class or a teacher treating you like a friend rather than a child. Silly memories that are childish now but at the time gave us joy. Needless to say there were the bad memories. Teachers shouting, fights between friends, loss, but they hold a special part in our lives too.

Generally the idea of how school works is simple; you wake, you go to school,  you learn, the return home, you do home work and repeat. It much more than that. I've learnt so much from my teachers, I've been inspired by them. They might not realise it but they've helped shape me as a person.

So, what does it mean. Why is it so hard for me to get my head around it. The things I'll never see or do again have to be let go of, that's the point. Instead of thinking about the things I'm leaving behind I should be thinking about what I'm on my way to. The next part of my life. New teachers, friends and frenemies that I will have to say goodbye to again. But that's okay. That's the point. Goodbyes are hard but sweet and necessary.