Our last days

The dead days are shaking again
Speaking, yes, those days are also over.
You've been far, that also remains to disappear
"Someday I will forget this day," was said.
Those with their backs to the wind, just like an adult
We forget them.
Today seems to be gradually falling to night
We will wash away the tears, isn't that what we thought?
You looked back and waved with your small hand.
Yesterday, with repentance, will be big in style
This pain will, with downcast eyes intact
Forget, forget it.
You've been far, that also remains to disappear
"Someday I'll remember this day," was said.
Those with their shoes pointed down, just like a setting sun dyed red
We forget them.

My mind is filled with a deep haze of fatigue, melancholy, and a subtle wave of nostalgia. I have not slept within the last day or so. The most I got out of last night was about a half an hour. I need to take care of myself more.

The most anticipated, but most painful day of the school year; the last day. Bonds that had been forged together and strengthened must now be loosened and undone in order to move onto the new year. No one will be forgotten, but when things come back, nothing will be the same. Everyone will have found new friends and the closeness that we all once shared before would be shattered by the separation and solitude of summer days.

I've always felt like the end of the school year was oddly strange. When you leave, it always felt like you were left hanging on a thin piece of string, looking back on what you've left and wondering what's left at the end of the line. Time has run out but it's still going.

I stayed up all night making last minute touches onto the plans that I have orchestrated among my peers. T-shirts and stuffed animals and letters and jars of stars. Everything for a teacher who has given a great amount of inspiration and motivation to me as a person.

I had planned it out thoroughly and assigned everyone in the class roles. I wanted this to be as sentimental as possible without being corny, also, I wanted this to be something to leave behind as a good note. I didn't want to leave my crying face as the last memory embedded into her eyelids. I wanted to leave behind something so great, so happy, so she could forget the me that I've already left behind.

I woke up from a 25 minute nap to shower and prepare myself for what was planned ahead of me. Mr. J was up first. I had given him his jar of stars, neutral colored, and then pink on top for his beloved daughter. Even though I have only ever seen her once, and only hear of her, I care about her a lot and hope for a kind and happy future for her. She deserves it. Her father is a great man.

I visited Mr. C for the last couple minutes before homeroom sweet; the last couple minutes we would talk for months. He pretended to sob, for whatever reason, that was embarrassing, but he also hugged me. A secure hug of reassurance and genuine kindness and care. I could feel it. He told me that I'd be okay over the summer, he believed in me. And that was the last I saw of him that day. I already miss having someone to talk to. Maybe.. I'll see him around if he ever comes to visit Mr. V down the street. Maybe I'll see them both and we'll all talk -- as neighbors and people. Even if it is only for five minutes, that's enough for me.

I visited Mr. B along with JP to give his cake. Next year was his last year, and we wanted to wish the best to him. Plus, I liked him a lot. Despite my lack of words as a person, he's grown a liking to me, or so I'd like to believe. He knew nothing, but knew something. He was always asking if I was okay, and giving me motivational words, and never pushing me to say anything I didn't need to, and letting me stay in his classroom during lunches. It really meant a lot to me, that he did that and all. We took a photo with him, which I think came out lovely. He put his arms around us and gave a big smile. It caught me off guard. He always seemed so distant that I never even thought he would do that. Thanks Mr. B. I didn't take your class next year, but I'll be around. You can count on it.

The day went on and I was almost sad for my 2nd block teacher whom I've claimed to hate for most of the semester. She's actually a decent person, and the kids in my class just brought out the worst in her. I felt bad that I had left the impression that I did, but at least I was on her better side, I guess. I hope she has fun in France for vacation, that her future students will be much kinder to her than we ever were, and that she gets her masters and reaches her professional goals. Oh, and I wish her happiness.

3rd block was mostly solitude and silence. I have no one in that class that I'm really close to. No one to really miss, honestly.

4th block. This is it. The class that has it all. The laughter, the tears, the inside jokes, you name it. The class that was most memorable. The one I will never forget. If I ever get to be grown up, I'll look back on these days and smile.

We started out the class normally until Ms. C came in and took Ms. S out for about 5 minutes. We all assembled ourselves accordingly, and I took a video. We presented our gifts to Ms. S. Boxes, and jars, and notes, and lions, and jars of stars.

We sang and sang and laughed and laughed until the bell rang. She yelled, "Don't go!" And that killed me. I had given her my painting, my bracelets, and my letter. I told her to read it. I had to be there when she read it. At first, I was concerned about my bus and ran out to check it, she yelled, "I love you Dianney!"  of course I yelled back ,"I love you too!" But I ran back into the classroom and figured I didn't care whether I missed it or not. It was the last day of school after all. It was actually a lot longer than I thought it was, the letter, but that didn't matter. She read it all. She laughed and smiled, and then she started to tear up and sniffle. I did too. She was reading part of the inside of my mind, the part that no one, not even I, can figure out. She was in it, and reading it, and was being pulled down by the waves of emotions that I felt. All the words and thoughts that I kept trapped inside my head were being let free among pieces of purple paper, reflected into the retinas her blue blue eyes, and released again by a shallow pool of tears. She gave me a reaction that I didn't even expect. She looked up at me and said, and said "Wow. That was really long, but. It was so nice. I'm definitely keeping this." And she walked up to me, and embraced me in her arms, "Thank you. Thank you so much." And we stayed like that for a minute. I could only cry and let out a sob of, "Thank you." I didn't even understand why she was thanking me. I wrote a letter thanking her, why would she thank me? We held each other tight, repeating the same things and we broke apart. I tried to explain more what I felt inside my head, but it came out wrong and I looked like an idiot. But it doesn't matter.

She told me that I could still talk to her over the summer if I needed to. That I could email her and that I need to visit a ton next year. Of course I would do all of that. Of course I would.

I ended up walking home. From the school to my house is about three miles, which isn't so bad, considering I run two. This boy walked home with me. We talked and talked about this and that, but most of it didn't really register into my head. I was still am spaced out from then, really. He insisted on buying me ice cream after I had said no so many times. I don't eat ice cream, but he got so goddamn annoying I just went along with it eventually. I was mad at him at that point. I wanted him to leave me alone. I wanted the walk home to just hurry up so he can leave me alone. And he wants to have pizza with me someday. Tch. I finally told him kindly I had not taken care of myself the past night and that I should rest up because I still had things to do that day. He let me leave and I've been ignoring him since then. Shallow and rude, but I can't have this.

The last day keeps replaying on the inside of my eyelids and I smile. The warmth of her hug is imprinted onto my body, her smile is etched behind my eyelids, and her voice is echoing in the walls of my ear canals. I smile and laugh because I had reason to now. And then I cry. I cry and cry and the tears swim out because of the anguish of separation and the distance of time. I tell myself it's only the summer, and I roll over and replay everything in my head again.

It took me three days to write this ever since it happened. I started tonight and ended now, almost 3 days later. Am I really running out of words to say? If that's the case then I'm absolutely terrified. I want to cry.