Lily's Letters To The World

 It was all very odd. Leaving, I mean. It's a bit funny how none of what you expect to be huge and monumental ever really is. I'm not sure what made it all so weird in that parking lot. She asked me to drop her textbooks off on my way out of town. It might be the last time I ever see her.  There's no rhyme or reason to the way we say goodbye.  Sometimes it's easy. Usually it's hard. It's hard when you're just waiting for the inevitable. When you look at the clock, and know you have thirteen minutes left together. And you sit and wait, making little small talk about nothing important, because you want to feel like the last thing you say to each other is meaningful. You wait as thirteen becomes twelve, and eleven, and pretty soon you realize that in ten minutes from now, the goodbye will be over. They will be three blocks down the road, getting farther and farther away. And you will just be here. Alone.  It's an odd feeling to be the only person in a place...