Alexander W. Dreyfoos School of the Arts | 501 S. Sapodilla Ave, WPB, FL 33401

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  • March 27No School because of Good Friday on 3/29/24
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  • March 27Scholarship Night on 3/27/24 at 6 p.m. in Meyer Hall
  • March 27Dual Enrollment Meeting on 3/27/24 at 11:19 a.m. in the Cafeteria
Alexander W. Dreyfoos School of the Arts | 501 S. Sapodilla Ave, WPB, FL 33401

THE MUSE

Alexander W. Dreyfoos School of the Arts | 501 S. Sapodilla Ave, WPB, FL 33401

THE MUSE

Saying Goodbye

Communications+senior+Michael+Wang+prepares+to+leave+his+new+friends+and+experiences+from+camp+behind+as+he+journeys+through+the+airport+on+his+trip+home.
Photo by Michael Wang
Communications senior Michael Wang prepares to leave his new friends and experiences from camp behind as he journeys through the airport on his trip home.

The hardest thing for me is saying goodbye; there’s a certain finality about the statement, a soul-sucking feeling that I probably won’t ever see that person again. This summer, I met many people. They were all extraordinary, and if they lived near me I’m sure a life-long friendship would blossom. But most have returned to their homes, hundreds of miles away, past rivers, lakes, oceans, and time zones. All of us have returned to our own lives. We have our own circle of friends, classes, teachers, and experiences.

I will always remember the last few moments. We stayed up the entire night, playing cards and talking. The time went by quickly, too quickly. Hours became minutes which became seconds. Some left to pack, others fell asleep on couches.

Soon, the shuttles started. The first one was at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. Most were on that shuttle. I watched as my friends sleepily marched into the late night or early morning, leaving handshakes, hugs, a couple socks, and promises to stay in touch. They went everywhere. In a couple hours, they would be hurtling through the air to California, China, Utah, and South Africa.

The next shuttle was mine. After somehow fitting everything into my suitcase, I sat down. The room was bare.  The bedding was taken down. The mess on the desk was now shoved into my backpack and my roommate was nowhere to be found. I could hear laughter and crying from the lounge slip through the doorway and into my room. With one last breath, I wheeled out my luggage into the hallway.

We sat out on the curb waiting for the shuttle. Some were taking it with me to the airport. Others were here to have one last conversation. For 30 minutes, we talked about everything. From our hometowns to college plans to insecurities, those minutes went slowly, but by the end they seemed like a flash.

The few of us on the shuttle broke into smaller groups as we left for our separate gates. Four went with me on a connecting flight to Atlanta. The Atlanta airport was bustling with people. Soon I realized that we would be heading our separate ways. As I said goodbye to the last people from camp, it was hard to understand. I walked away and headed for the opposite end of the airport. The familiar faces had left me.

I met amazing people, who I will probably never see again. Some I might see in college, and some I might even see in newspapers. But for the others who will go into different areas, fields, and places, for the others who I will never see again, I’ll celebrate the times we had.

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About the Contributor
Michael Wang, Opinion Editor
Communications senior Michael Wang is the Opinion Editor of The Muse. He loves journalism and appreciates the power it can have on people. Wang loves writing because it makes people think, but his favorite part about it is when the computer crashes. Outside of The Muse, he is the president of the Speech and Debate Team and the Math Honor Society.
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