Saying Goodbye in One Sentence

made me proud of C and also saddened by the tone of rehearsed certainty coursing through their chosen words. I informed my clients that it was my last day. K questioned why I had to leave and I responded that it was time for me to get ready for the next semester and I needed at least a week to buy adequate supplies and pack.

C said to K, “This is how life is – everyone moves on.”

Although it was a very common phrase, for the lesson to have been learned so thoroughly and continuously leaves a taste of bitterness under my tongue. The cynic in me is challenging the purpose of this pain in individuals so young, in one of the most privileged nations in the world – why, God, Supreme Being, whatever or whoever may be responsible for all of this? Why make life alter between such opposed extremes of happiness, joy, and pleasure to sorrow, anger, and pain? Could there have been another option, a balance between the two, or would existing in a state of neutrality negate the ability to feel emotions, to respond and interact, to live a full and appreciative, sometimes brutal life?

I did not want to test their resilience in my search for work experience, so I left the prospect of me returning for visits vague, but as plausible events that could very well take place. Apparently, I was an improvement to a few past interns. I maintained professional and friendly repoire with my clients and co-workers. I was clinically therapeutic and molded it in ways that were relative and genuinely interesting to them.

I felt whole, yet a slight shadow of melancholy tapped me on the shoulder as I emptied the drawers of my office desk and tidied up the work area. I customized the messages and contact number reminders on my bulletin board for any future interns or employees to use and wrote a brief note, welcoming him or her. I signed and dated it along the bottom before leaving it inside the top left drawer. I left custom post-it notes and two pounds of gourmet ground coffee on the common kitchen counter for my office to find on Monday. I found myself distractedly running my hands over my loaned building key, outlining its contours with my right thumbpad. It finally detached itself from my keychain with a little cajoling, though it was as eager to leave as I was to give it up. I left it on my superior’s desk, parallel to the keyboard. I shuffled papers and tried to convince myself I had some paperwork to do, but this was a blatant lie and with a final mouse click, I shut down the slow computer that I battled for weeks one last time.

I sit here, unable to sleep, listening to the CDs I burned for C and K. I hope they like them.