Great mystic shrouds the notion of leaving. Leaving for college. The next chapter of your life.

But as you leave, you are also being left behind. Left behind, shaking with the cold frost of memories on your skin, you sit.

Sitting in the silver disk of a moon’s reflection, you watch them go. And the love screams furiously inside of you. Wanting to keep people like they’re pocket-size. Wanting to roll up high school like the pages of a book and get lost between them.

One forgets how unsteady the human body is alone. How the winds of change and departure can nearly topple you to the ground. And every time you fall, you ask yourself: Was I enough to be remembered?

They pull into worlds where you don’t exist. Where everything needs to be explained and nothing is really understood. College: the great divider of experience.

Everything that seemed cemented in the city of forever crumbles into dust in the rear view mirror. Their drive quickens to preserve the integrity of the skyline with distance. Maybe your time together wasn’t even a city, just a series of sand castles built on the beach you walked upon.

In truth, people are made of comings and goings. High school is remembered only by nostalgics, and endings are feared only by fools.

College departures are but minor separations, cracks in a china plate.