...and the next day,

Oh, man. Is it already over? For heaven's sake! How did that happen? I'll tell you when I realized it was done. We were talking about hailstorms (they had one in Italy apparently) and I thought, "Hey, we had one of those recently!" and the picture of it happening came into my head: I was standing, ten minutes before my alarm was supposed to wake me, at my window, while the hail rattled like everything. Then it struck me, a strange thought: That was during school. That was infinite time ago. I was worrying about an assignment I had to hand in the same day. Hoooooooly, that seems a million years past.

Although this wave of nostalgia hadn't really struck me until now, and the words "last time" and "forever" became cliché pretty fast, now it's hitting me. I feel the unbearable weight of the need to cry. But I probably won't. It's stupid, and I almost never do once I mention I need to.

It would be nice, however, I think.

. ON THAT NOTE,
I wrote a poem, kinda depressing:

The Last Time

I remember the last time I really cried:
that January, with the girl I liked,
in the gym, talking about suicide.

This is nothing like that,
but my heart disagrees.
I’ve been feeling like nothing has changed
but now something is different in me.

We graduate; the thrill is past,
the last time we’ll be saying “last”.
The grads move on, the teachers give half-hearted chase
but the cars have left, and left no trace.

Step into your door, remove your gown,
hang up your hat, take the tassel down,
put it by the books and cherished letters.
None of it will ever happen again;
your most recent memories are now from a life that is not yours.
When will you make friends like that? Behind what doors?

Last talk last lunch last class last test
last grade last lock last friend last word
last film last group last desk last last
last
last

Now I can remember
a little better.