Dear Zach,
It was my last day.
I was supposed to be feeling happy, joyful, vibrant, glowing and whatever terms that describe a person that was about to leave a hellish working place on the last day itself ; I wasn’t feeling it. What makes me feeling guilty of not feeling what it’s supposed to be felt was that I actually missed the people there. Though my first and the worst working experience could have been this one, but I do enjoy the throughout journey of endless suffering, insulting, complaining with others interns from other colleges about this shithole company I had worked for. It was entertaining, a lot of laughter, and, of course, our endless complaint and bitch-talk about everything in this company. That’s something we had in common - we hated working there more than we ever hated ourselves.
It was my last day.
Before I left, I stayed in there much longer than I usually do, bidding goodbyes and giving hugs to people I had worked with, and taking pictures for remembrance. I specifically didn’t hug him even though I had the urge to do so. Our last kiss was the day before the last day. I didn’t want to kiss him on my last day – it would have made me missed him all the more and I afraid I might have fallen for him very hard. I kissed him passionately – I knew I won’t ever be seeing him again. Or I will never see him again. Our final and last kiss. And I won’t, or probably will never, miss him - it breaks my heart when I miss him.
It was my last day.
I will definitely miss the endless complaint, the people, and the final kiss.
x
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