The last goodbye nobody prepared me for

I always thought the hardest part of college would be the exams.

Turns out, it’s the goodbyes.

Not the dramatic movie-like ones. The quiet ones.

The last walk through campus without realizing it’s the last. The last chai break with people who somehow became family. The last time your entire friend group is in one room laughing at the same stupid joke.

One day you’re making plans for next semester, and the next you’re packing your room into cardboard boxes.

I keep scrolling through old photos, and what hurts isn’t that college is over. It’s knowing that we’ll never be this version of ourselves again.

The version that had all its friends within a five-minute walk.

The version that could knock on someone’s door at 2 a.m. because life felt heavy.

The version that believed there would always be another semester.

Everyone says, “We’ll stay in touch.”

And I know we mean it.

But life has a way of pulling people into different cities, different jobs, different versions of themselves.

Today, I don’t miss the lectures or assignments.

I miss the ordinary moments that felt insignificant when they were happening.

The random conversations.

The late-night walks.

The comfort of knowing my people were nearby.

I guess growing up is realizing that some chapters end while you’re still in love with them.

And maybe that’s why saying goodbye hurts so much.

Because for a few years, this place wasn’t just a college.

It was home.