When I finished year 11 I cried. I was coming back to the same school, with largely the same friends, the same teachers, everything the same. I was going to study the subjects I wanted, have my own 6th form block, my own locker and be allowed to carry round my bag for the whole day without leaving it in my locker. It was a sad day, there is no doubt about it.
But two years on I'm in almost the same position again. This time though, I've left forever. Most people I won't ever see again, or talk to. Some I may even forget I ever knew. It's an awful thought, but it's true. Some people just haven't impacted my life in such an immediate way, and they will be the people I will regrettably forget. There's no denying it. It sounds sad, heart breaking. But it's weird, I don't feel that way. I don't feel like a winner getting away from people who I haven't found interesting or inspiring, yet all these people have been a part of my 7 years at school. Yet I don't feel a twinge of guilt or sadness for letting some people go. I didn't cry today on my leaver's day. I didn't hug anyone goodbye. I waved bye to some people and wished them a good holiday and said I'd see them soon. They're the people I probably will see soon. The others just left, passing me like passing businessmen ghosts in London. Part of the crowd.
This time I think I feel ready to go. I've moved on from that part of my life, and to prolong it anymore wouldn't help. It's the end of an era, sure. But it's the start of an even better one. There are so many wonderful people who I love and I will cherish their company in my life forever I hope. I know the people I will talk to again because I want to. I don't want to lose contact and they always have a space in my mind.
I love my friends so much and I really don't want to ever forget them. I'm sure when the real goodbye comes and I won't see them each week I will feel like I've lost half of my livelihood.