I like to think of my emotions as being on a scale from one to ten. For example, if I was at a ten I would be feeling the pure joy of holding a baby puppy, while at a one I would be ugly crying like I did about *SPOILER ALERT* the death of Derek Shepard. Either way, if I’m not in middle zone from four to six, I’m crying. The tears come regardless of my logical thinking or self assurance, and they keep coming until I have felt all the feels of the emotionally stimulating situation. A list describing the motivations for my many unnecessary sob sessions would be made of a mixture of hormones, painful Netflix series endings and Goodbyes.
If frequent cryer miles were available, mine would have significantly increased today; I said goodbye to my first and best college roommate. In just a few steps, she finished her freshman year, and left the place where found home in each other. The room is hollow without her energy, and the sound of her voice echoes where her photos once hung. I sobbed. Bawled. I stared at her naked mattress and the amount of empty space around me and had to ask myself, “Why is saying goodbye so hard?”
For something to end, there has to be a beginning, and there’s no better symbol for endings than goodbye. My roommate’s tearful hug was the first of the goodbye’s I’ll have to sob through these last few days of freshman year. The year of the huge beginning; the start of higher education, lasting relationships and the rest of my life. Saying goodbye to Sarah meant that being a freshman was really over, but I wouldn't be crying about that.
I cried as we held each other in our last freshman-roomie embrace of the year because on the first day we met, I asked how to pronounce her name (apparently Sarah is harder than it looks). I sobbed over memories of the endless hours she spent listening and working through my life problems for me. Tear after tear fell, almost as many as the secrets we kept for each other, the songs we sang together and memories we have. I guess I was crying because I was comfortable with who we were together in that room.
Goodbyes are the epitome uncomfortable. They are a one-word conclusion to the making of timeless memories, the ending of a hopeful hello. I don’t think that goodbye’s are necessarily sad, but I cry and sob and bawl anyway because every moment, past present and future, is special with the ones I love.
