I’ve been home for a week.
Memories from there is still fresh. And made me think.
Rarely I get to hear “I will miss you”. I never think I leave such impression that people think of me after I leave, I usually think that I only pass through people’s lives and don’t leave a mark. But there I got to hear it more than once. And it didn’t even felt like a fake politeness. It felt real.
They miss me.
I might not have been the best student, but for me, it’s not that important.
What’s important for me is that I was with them. I laughed, hugged, played, talked, hung out with them. I was there for them, for those nice people who were kind to me. That feeling that maybe, just maybe I have left some small mark in their lives, that, that once a while they will suddenly remember “Hey, she was that short, colourful clothes wearing girl…..” And it’s more than I can ask for. And for me it’s more important than what grades I got there.
So.
Hopefully I made their days.
Hopefully I made them smile.
Hopefully I taught them something.
Hopefully I helped them.
Because that’s what they did to me.
I already miss the hugs. And paper planes. And so much more.
Jag saknar er.