Finally. I never thought it would come.
I finished the exam, in the nick of time, and I didn't care about the paper, I didn't care that my poetry analysis sucked or that my Mill answer was bad. All I cared about was giving into that free and wild whirwind inside me, that's been struggling, struggling, struggling the past week.
Sneha dampened the mood a bit when she sadly said we'd never see each other again probably- all of us- and when I walked down the stairs, alone and I'm glad it was alone, I stopped in the corridor, the Class 9 corridor, and tried to feel sad that I'd never walk down it as a student again.
And when I walked out that gate, I tried walking slowly, because it was the last time I was walking out as a student. As a Martinian. Fifteen years of walking in and out that gate and now it was over. And the wind was blowing softly and school was calm and beautiful.
But I couldn't feel any sadness. All I felt was the wild wild freedom and joy that comes when you finally turn the page and see the rest of your life slowly unfolding ahead of you.
Why be sad when I've got that?