Typically, I used to leave class with a huge smile on my face on the last day of the week. I also would often jump into the car, and crank my two favorite songs to the maximum. Sooner than later, I began to scream along to the lyrics the entire ride home and dance inevitably. Who could blame me? I was soon going to see you in two short days, and absolutely nothing made me happier.
However, the first week back after break was completely different; I left school without any of that. The radio is often quiet, playing little to nothing. My face blankly stares down the road, and my voice is silenced. My body is motionless, no longer dancing psychotically. The only movement and sound within is that of my heartbeat, which beats anxiously as I think of you.
From one season to another, things have changed so quickly before I could put a stop to it. It was like watching the leaves turn into multiple colors in the fall. I saw many of the lighter shades, but not so much the darker. Suddenly, they fell off their trees before I had the chance to truly enjoy all of them, both the pretty and the ugly. So this is how I comprehend it: the theory of losing you before I had the chance to experience and admire all of you.
And somehow I have to be okay with living with that.