I really, really hate goodbyes, and also I am terrible at them. The last night of our program involved a 25th Anniversary Ball where all the students and teachers were tearfully bidding each other goodbye, and the best I could manage with any of my students - who were fantastic, and who I will actually miss - was "um, have a safe flight back, and I'll catch up with you on Facebook." And my kids were like, "and thanks for teaching us to be socially awkward, Ryan."
(The kids on my staircase were the polar opposite, and gave me a tub of my favorite kind of ice cream from G&D's and all wrote goodbye messages "to the best staircase advisor/the sexiest man in the program to wear a dress." They are more emotionally developed than I am.)
Anyway, then last night I was free from the tyranny of knowing that I would almost definitely pass a student of mine no matter what pub I was at, and so I messaged a handful of people who I know are still at Oxford and went out to All Bar One for a last night out before David leaves tomorrow and I leave on Wednesday. And, as usual, I was like, "um, I'll probably see you guys in New York, or else I'll be back in a year." And Chase shrugged and was like, "well, have a good life," and I was filled with a warm fuzzy feeling because this is why I am friends with these people.