Endings, Part 2.

You're gonna walk across the court yard, this is how I'll remember you with your head high and strutting across the path. I'm gonna smile as if I'll see you Monday in class. This is how I'll remember you.

These were the words of one of the girls I have had class with for the last year as we waved goodbye to one another knowing full well after that day we would likely never see one another again.
We've sat together every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for two semesters in a row, somehow managing to be in the same musical theory class and then in the same journalism class.
Wednesday was a hard day because it was my last day of classes ever at St. Thomas.
Walking through the school felt different, it was the last time I would see it this packed and this alive.
I told my theory professor what an honor it was to have learned under him, he was one of my favorites as he had written most of the books I had used in Criminology in my time here and his words were easy to understand. It was an honor to truly learn from someone of his level of skill and how many publications he has, as it makes me think of how far I'd like to go with my own career.
To my sweet Joanna the mommy dearest every student needs, you've heard of the cafeteria ladies always taking students under their wings? Well this woman mothered me all the way from first year to this year and saying goodbye to her burned because she was always there with a smile and a cup of tea on any given day.
Then came my professor that I've admired for years, for his brilliance and just sheer humanity, the man was always happy about what he was teaching because he is passionate about it. He made a class most would groan about having to take (American Poetry) into a class where we all wanted to be there, wanted to learn and just enjoy his teaching... of all the professors I've ever met he has truly been the best one, his ability to care for his students, how he was not only interested in our academic performance but in us as people.
He was one of the first professors I really talked to about my trouble with depression and coming out and my god he was  he ever understanding, he didn't care too much for the late papers... no he care more that I was okay and that I was getting the help that I needed.
I'm someone who for the longest time didn't understand why people were nice to me without a reason or incentive. This man made me believe in the kindness of professors as in the four years I have known him he has always been genuine and caring, he is an amazing educator and friend that I am grateful to have met.
When it came to saying goodbye to him I had my trusted friend stand with me as he read the card I had written to him saying thank you for everything and watching a tear escape his eye as he hugged me telling me to come back and never be a stranger to talk to him, to say hello to his mentor who just happens to be the dean of arts at my new school.
Walking out of that classroom one final time broke me enough to have tears flowing down my cheeks (insert side kick handing me a tissue from the pack she had in her bag just for this day, she really is the best) as we walked to the building across the way she kept telling me to keep my head up and let the wind blow the tears away, saying how my eye make up was good today don't ruin it in an attempt to stop the tears which eventually slowed.