It sat unwanted at the bottom of my coffee, mocking me.

After I would take the last sip we would be getting up from the table we had sat so many times before, over brunch--not breakfast because of the early hour that entails--and do what we all had worked tirelessly the last four years to do: leave.

Soon enough the summertime and Eggs Benedict had disappeared and my coffee had run dry, bringing light to the elephant in the room; the goodbye.

We sat there laughing about last weekends party and fantasizing college as if we would be back again to follow up on the repercussions the party had brought and college was just a mystical, impending, and foreign word we would soon become familiar with.

But the glistening word "college" glimmered differently than in the past. It shined a bittersweet reality that in pursuit of receiving a new life filled with new people in a new city we would be without them and they too would be doing the same, without us.

We knew we were saying goodbye, that's why we met that morning. I knew I would cry, I did. Lastly I knew I would be seeing them again soon, five months truly isn't that long.

I still cried anyways.

There's truly no reason for the amount of tears and the sentiment but inevitably they came at alarmingly high rates.

I'm well aware of all the life I will be living in college and my friends the same, and the excitement that brings me is incomparable but still goodbyes are hard.

A temporary goodbye to someone who filled you with happy, only lasts temporarily. Thank God. The happy they filled you with, if cared for correctly, can be bottled and drank bottomlessly.

I suppose that's the hardest part of all, the angst behind farewells is the absence of new joy with beloved and familiar faces. It's holding on to every detail that makes you love them, while waiting for new ones.

Maybe we can greet goodbyes from now on, give them a good hug and say the words we want them to hold on to until next time. Then, love them, miss them and make a next time.

Au Revoir.