There's always that tiny bittersweet feeling that accompanies the end of each chapter of our life. Our team just gave the team project presentation today and that is officially the end of Lab I. I had fun, despite the frequent frustration we've had with the experiment. I'll surely miss the smell of ether and of course, the post-lab dinners with the group. Chinese is officially done as well, and it is weird to think that next semester there will be no more morning coffees with A.Chen and sleeping in Chinese class. There is no more tutoring with the East Liberty kids since I will have no time to tutor next semester but instead have my life consumed by 251 and research. I'll miss the kids: D'Ambrose, Dom, M., Heaven, Mykya and the hyperactive Christian and I'm only naming these people because they are the people I'd never want to forget but I know I'll forget at some point and cry over the fact that I have terrible recollection of names. But anyways, I wish the best for them and hope that they'll all stay in school, and of course, Mr. Brown who always teased me for being a Pats fan and for looking like my Asian counterpart, Jiwon, whom sadly I still haven't meet. Perhaps someday when I'm old, I'll write a book about all of them because each and everyone of them at East Liberty are such memorable people and as cliche as this sounds, they deserve to have their stories told.
Yesterday, I got a text from someone I haven't heard from in a long time, in a way it did mark the end of something that would have otherwise continued to be on standstill. I don't really know whether I'd rather prefer closure than uncertainty. Looking back, there are so many things that could have gone differently and so many things that could have been made clearer. I remember Vivian's philosophical argument about what matters is not how things ends but it is about getting rid of any misunderstanding of events leading up to the ending. It's tragic that I don't have the capacity to think like Vivian. I guess for me, the fun is in the mystery of not knowing, and trying to stick an eye into every nitty gritty well of someone's life ruins the fun. Also, it doesn't help that I'm a shy person and isn't bold enough to have done things differently.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I've figured out something that's tragically wrong with me. The more I get to know someone, the more boring they become, and of course people can say the same about me. But, as they say, the only way to get to know a person really well is to interact with them on a day to day basis... but by seeing someone too often you're exposing yourself to the danger of getting bored of that person, or vice versa, the other person gets bored of you. So should there be a need to limit the amount of time you spend with any particular person? Or would it be better to solely interact with strangers so the conversations never gets old? That's really sad to think about. There's always rare exceptions to this, the image elderly couples holding hands for example... that's a picture I'll always be envious of.
That's it for the post. I don't know why I tend to blog about such depressing things. Maybe there's a stronger need to put depressing things into writing whereas happier memories are only worthy of a mental acknowledgment. But that's it, once last post before drowning myself in textbooks. Let the finals studying commence.