Goodbye

 The rain never faltered in its downpour. The gothic structure lingered above the figures below; overshadowing them in the dark silhouette of a timeless building - an empty abyss full of the invisible memories of generations gone by. Normally a light faded brown, the school stood against the darkened purple sky; the air of melancholy and hidden sobriety was complete as the two friends strolled through the memories of the past towards an uncertain future.

 There are those who try and deny the significance that school has on your life and there are those who accept it but would never dare admit it for fear they became something from those days that they would rather let lie in the grave of adolescence. Ironically however, it is the denial of the importance for so long that finally culminates in a final hour where the realisation comes that it was important, and either broke us or made us something to be proud of.

 It was always going to happen: the end of school and the beginning of whatever lay beyond it. It was really just a question of when and that was a question that I thought would never really come up; it always seemed that there was an infinite amount of time ahead and that the days would never mount up into years. This was, however, the day that one of my close friends would be leaving school to pursue higher education whilst I would be left to enter sixth year; a distorted year with glimpses of things to come jumbled up in the format of things and years that had once been. But my time, my final hour, was not in the leaving of school, but rather in the ending of a mutually shared era with a close friend.

 So this parting of the ways was never going to be an easy one after many years of friendship and much fun and laughter along the way. But the emphasis was not on a mere departure, nor was it on the reflection of the end but rather it was on the reflection of the journey - the things experienced and the things gained through a school career.

 The day was as normal as ever, with each of us having had lessons before lunch. But it was at lunch, and it had always been at lunch, where the laughter was had over good humour and comical anecdotes. Occupying our usual table in the dining hall and discussing the usual matters, and naturally providing a mixture of opinion about the current sixth year, we laughed as if this was not the last time we would do this in this circumstance but rather was just another ordinary day like all the others over the past seven years. However, it was the dull knowledge in the back of the mind that closing time was nearly upon us - combined with the various toasts of well wishes- that added to the growing emotional tension that something was inevitably going to change.

 After lunch the day continued with my friend meeting with teachers and thanking and saying goodbye to them. Even with this obvious knowledge that an end was in sight, it never really felt as if one truly was; that this was some kind of temporary change, something different. Perhaps that is true of school in general – it is succession of moments; of failures and successes, of joys and pains that mimic real life but it is confined to the literal walls that surround the establishment creating this comfort zone that you think will continue indefinitely.

 We proceeded to walk around the school, seeing our old classrooms and such; chatting and laughing as had always been the way, remembering the good times, the bad, and getting vague memories of the times when we looked forward long ago thinking what time would have in store for us. Sitting on a bench outside where our old primary classroom used to be we sat in quiet reflection as the rain poured down, occasionally sharing a passing thought. Neither of us noticed it much, but the rain continued to fall, both of us drenched, but still standing tall in defiance – not much different to the way we had for years in school. To ride the rapids was indeed as much fun as riding a quiet part of the river, for without the bitter it would be impossible to ever know the sweet. As more thoughts like this grew and as more memories revealed themselves to the mood, the hollow emptiness inside and the whispering thoughts of sadness started to gain more and more control. It was an unspoken sadness though, one that was shared by the knowledge of the other. But still, we thought that like the times behind us and the dirt at our feet, we too were shortly going to be washed away by the down pouring rain.

 We continued our reflective walk around the school campus. In a perfectly timed moment symbolism was ripe as the then primary seven were ‘graduating’ as it were from the junior school and moving into the senior school; literally passing through its corridors and entering out the nearest door to us. The contrast of the children moving into a new chapter of their lives, the chapter that we were both leaving now, was poignant and memorable and served as a reminder that there would be many people like us long after we had left this place. Still, we continued our walk round the school in the downpour of the rain.  

 Finally we reached the gates of the school. This may have been the final moment of parting at the school, and although sad, was also a celebration of the triumphs of friendship and the things gained along the way. The purple sky still hung over head, and the rain was nothing but symbolic of the trials and tribulations of the years gone by as well as the mutual mood of us both. It was as if the unspoken thoughts of the heart and mind were being spoken through every rain drop that fell around us; an appropriately dramatic ending for equally dramatic school years. This was in late July, and the strangeness of such a rainy day in the midst of what yesterday had been a heat wave added to the sense that this was something set up, something that was meant to be. The rain had forced the usually vibrant school inside that lunchtime, and it was us left in the downpour to say goodbye to each other at the gates of the school. Goodbyes were said, with tears in the eyes and hugs exchanged. My friend left the school and I proceeded to walk towards the tall vision of the school in front of me. This transition felt more like the sudden removal of a limb and the mind trying desperately trying to make sense of it than a mere goodbye. I approached the school, walking in the rain without much care for it, just the knowledge that it was there and spoke more of my feelings at this moment than I ever could have done. My time would come, but it was not to be today. I walked towards the house with the lights on, but one I knew would be devoid of what I wanted to be there.

 Much time has passed since that day. Today, I find myself sitting in a classroom high up in that very school looking out over the campus contemplating my leaving there and the changes that I will once again face. Change is not an enemy to be fought but rather a friend to be embraced, for the circumstances may change but the mind does not. We remember the things gone by and the things important to us and if we hang onto them, have some kind of anchor, then nothing can ever truly be that different after all. My time is nearly upon me now to leave this place, to embrace an uncertain future and as I look out on this bright summer’s day in July, I see on the horizon the purple clouds looming.

 This time I brought an umbrella – I’ve felt the rain before.