Life is cycle of endings and beginnings. For one thing to begin, another must end. 17 days before the month ends, I should really be happy now, I should be excited to pack my things, leave the school and wait for what lies ahead. But I am not.
I never thought that leaving would be this hard, that even just the thought of giving my farewell message to my pupils would scare the hell out of me, that even how much I try to avoid confronting my feelings, there'll come a point that I have to face anxiety, fear, sadness and happiness all at the same time.
And that small space between endings and beginnings is what hurts the most- saying goodbyes, wishing them all the best, encouraging them to make all their dreams come true, no matter how silly it may seem for others.
That small space between endings and beginnings, where each hug is tighter, each step away from one another is heavier, where each tear is both happy and sad, where each word takes heartbeats to say, and where we come to realize that it might be the last time to see each other.
March 26, you'll be my first elementary graduates, I couldn't be any prouder of what we have achieved together. No matter how much I try to avoid saying my goodbye messages despite your constant prodding, I know when that day comes, I will be the happiest (and the saddest) teacher in the world. I am happy because on that day, you will make your parents proud. I am happy because despite my half-hearted acceptance of being a Grade 6 adviser because of your batch's known reputation, you all have proven me and other people wrong. I am happy because you've made me a part of your life, and you've trusted me with some of your secrets. I am happy because I am genuinely happy for sixty three young children who wants nothing but love, understanding, time and acceptance, marching along the halls of your second home.
And that small space between endings and beginnings is what hurts the most. #