Bitter sweet

Last day of school, and I miss it already. Last semester, I remember feeling the same–the semester before that, I remember that feeling also. However, it’s always different when it’s experienced at the moment. After an incredible time in my last Chinese class of the year, I was literally knocked off-line for a good hour plus. I have a final in two days–a critical final, I might add–but as I stood in front of the library, I couldn’t go in. No, not after the Chinese class. I stood outside the grand entrance of the library, pondering, thinking, stunned, unsure of what I should do, but absolutely sure that I am NOT going to study. I wandered the plazas, went back to the classroom I walked out from a tad bit fast, and tried to capture my emotions in the words I wrote. But nothing stops time. With time, that emotion too will slowly fade, but at the moment, I was lost in the tide, unable to control or discipline my actions, even though I know I need to get that A in my Statistics class. I think my feelings about the day can be summed up by Charles Dicken’s famous opening in A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.” Damn.