Some Sentiments about Leaving College

Today was the official last day of college and technically I don't have to go back again if I don't want to. But of course, I am obliged to go back for revision classes and the suchlike. This may be why today didn't actually feel like the last day. It wasn't like the last day of school, where we were all dismissed and told goodbye. It doesn't feel like the end, although it is true that I probably won't be seeing a lot of people again. I thought Amanda was going to be one of them, but she refuses to lose contact with me, insisting that we text each other (which, might I add, we never do). At school, I was glad to be leaving. School was holding me back. I was too grown up for all the silly rules about not wearing hats in class, about swearing, about chewing gum. College is much better suited to me because there are no such unnecessary, restrictive rules. I may not wear a hat in class, or even swear very often, but it's nice to know that I can if I want to. I like to be independent and in control. And so while everyone cried about leaving even when they had complained about how they hated it for so long, I thought them petty. They were going to miss their friends. They might never see their friends again. I had barely a true friend to speak of, all of them having betrayed me or been betrayed by me, and anyone who I did speak to was also coming to college. Everyone else's sentiment sickened me. The fact that they could be so dependent on their friends when I knew that given several months and a long separation, they'd all find new friends and wouldn't care a jot for the old ones. I was right in thinking this, of course. The only thing I was sad about leaving was Mr Sewell, who had helped me through an awful lot, and was the only constant friend I had at the school. And after I left, I didn't regret a thing. Even now, I wouldn't go back. Today John Grundy held a discussion with us about the college, about what we thought was good and bad about it. It came to be agreed upon that the college had shit rooms, but I had to speak out and say that they must be endearingly shitty, because I would miss them. I will. I will miss the college. The completely unstrict, respectful college with all its staff waiting with a smile to help you with any aspect of the work, or even just waiting for a pleasant chat. But I'm not really very sentimental about it. I will only miss it temporarily and then I will move on. I'm like that - I embrace change as long as I'm in control. Edinburgh University, I will probably find, will be just the same. I will grow attached to it in the course of the next four years, and I will miss that too when I leave. I decided I absolutely have to buy a bottle of wine for Malcolm. Malcolm is my Maths lecturer and tutor combined. He has somehow managed to teach me how to do Maths when all I really cared about was English Literature. But, y'know, Maths grows on you. Sometimes it's a relief to get away from dilly-dallying essays and get straight down to facts and precision. It seems so much simpler (assuming one knows what one is doing). And so I am at last happy to be leaving the college. Leaving South Shields, in fact. Leaving home. This will be my first adventure. I don't feel scared at all. I'm not the sort of person who feels scared about such things. And I don't feel like I'll moan or whinge about how much I miss college, but nevertheless I will look back at it and everyone there with very fond memories.