of the last breakfast
I'm leaving saint louis in a few hours and we have decided to go to first watch and eat an early breakfast. My room is almost completely empty, and most of my stuff is either in the basement or the shoe closet. My car is in the garage. My trash bags are in the driveway. Every single piece of handout/test I have taken in my 3 years here is now lying in the huge recycling bin by the middle school at Demun. The one-month-old eggs are still lying in the fridge though (mental note: I must remember to trash that later). I am walking through the house over and over again, thinking about the first day that all of this started.
Writing about farewells is painful, but saying goodbye is undoubtedly a million times harder.