Kaleidoscope

It happened on the night where my friends and I rectified the criminal offense of us not having a girls’ night out in six months. Right after the conclusion of a wild story involving a rat and a bike, my best friend surprised us with the good news of her acceptance to a master’s program in Spain.

Shell-shocked was the only way I could describe my reaction. I was swept aloft with euphoria while a trapdoor simultaneously opened beneath my heart. On one hand, I was extremely elated that she got into her dream university. On the other hand, I couldn’t help the rush of bitterness at the thought of losing her presence in my life. My inner child stomped her feet with fury while shouting: “How could you leave me behind? I thought we were in this thing together!”

But I remembered that this was her moment, so I locked away my thoughts and celebrated her happiness and excitement with the group.

Later that night, in the comfort of my room, I reopened those thoughts. Saying goodbye to her wouldn’t just leave a crater in my life, but it would place a full stop in the sentence we’ve been writing together for the past three-and-a-half years. Logically, I knew that those years had passed. But mentally? I could still perfectly see through the eyes of the nervous nineteen-year-old me in my first tutorial ever, feeling alone and untethered in the cold, foreign room of Theil. Looking back, I supposed all my classmates must have felt the same disconcerting feeling of being thrust into a new environment filled with aliens.

Caught in that melancholic mood, I looked up at the moon outside my window and mused about how in a way, we are each our own galaxy.

We start out alone in space, in the solitary darkness, when we begin our student life. Slowly but surely, new lights start popping in. Some are fleeting, and some stay. But at the end of the day, time flies, and before you know it, you have a beautiful kaleidoscope of lights in all shapes and sizes that make up your galaxy, and their places are permanently engraved in your heart. Even the occasional comet, or the star that has faded away to its death: all of them are etched into your galaxy.

It hurts when things change, because each move by a star comes with blazing heat. But no matter what happens among the stars, every time you look up, you can’t help but go ‘wow’ at what you find, because the big picture everything makes is incredible in its own unique way.

Though goodbyes are painful, I take comfort in knowing that, as I watch the brilliant stars of my galaxy move away with a heavy but proud heart, I will always remember their presence and be grateful for the time they have spent with me, and my love for them will never fade.