Prologue:
I wash the classroom tables. Another day of continuous classes has ended. At one point in time I enjoyed being a teacher. I enjoyed my students. I also enjoyed the fact that I could give something back to them.
I used to feel like I was giving a special part of myself. Now I have nothing special to give to them. I could teach them about pain and sorrow. These days those are my specialties, but I couldn't do that to them. They are still so young. Some of them are not but twelve and thirteen while others are nearing their eighteenth birthday.
I wasn't always so sullen and strict. Before I met her and during the time I knew her I was one of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters favorite teachers.
A knock on the door interrupts me. I go to open the door. I see that it is Professor Xavier. He runs the school. He always has. He is an amazing man. I haven't quite met anyone like him. I seriously doubt that I ever will.
"Hello, Bobby. Do you have a moment to spare?"
"Ofcourse. Come in."
"Thankyou. Bobby I am going to be honest with you. Everyone is very concerned."
"About what?"
"You."
"Why?"
"Ever since Ms. Marie's death you have been different. I understand that you loved her and that you miss her. We all miss her. In the short time we all knew her she was a blessing to us all. I understand that you are suffering."
"I'm fine, Charles. I really am. If I appear not to be I am very sorry. I will try harder and I will succeed. I am sorry."
"You didn't fail her. I know what you were thinking."
"Ofcourse I failed her. She didn't even tell me until the very end. By that time it was too late. Most people didn't know this but we had planned to be married in the spring of last year."
"That wasn't your fault Bobby. Scott and I were talking. You need a break from all of this. Why don't you take some time off. Go on vacation. When you come back you might feel better."
"Alright, Charles. I'll leave tommorow."
"Excellent. I will see you later."
I watch as he leaves wondering if he is actually serious? A vacation? This must be some sort of a joke or something, but who am I to question him? I will go. I will go and I will tell you our story. I think you will find it a most interesting one.
I wash the classroom tables. Another day of continuous classes has ended. At one point in time I enjoyed being a teacher. I enjoyed my students. I also enjoyed the fact that I could give something back to them.
I used to feel like I was giving a special part of myself. Now I have nothing special to give to them. I could teach them about pain and sorrow. These days those are my specialties, but I couldn't do that to them. They are still so young. Some of them are not but twelve and thirteen while others are nearing their eighteenth birthday.
I wasn't always so sullen and strict. Before I met her and during the time I knew her I was one of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters favorite teachers.
A knock on the door interrupts me. I go to open the door. I see that it is Professor Xavier. He runs the school. He always has. He is an amazing man. I haven't quite met anyone like him. I seriously doubt that I ever will.
"Hello, Bobby. Do you have a moment to spare?"
"Ofcourse. Come in."
"Thankyou. Bobby I am going to be honest with you. Everyone is very concerned."
"About what?"
"You."
"Why?"
"Ever since Ms. Marie's death you have been different. I understand that you loved her and that you miss her. We all miss her. In the short time we all knew her she was a blessing to us all. I understand that you are suffering."
"I'm fine, Charles. I really am. If I appear not to be I am very sorry. I will try harder and I will succeed. I am sorry."
"You didn't fail her. I know what you were thinking."
"Ofcourse I failed her. She didn't even tell me until the very end. By that time it was too late. Most people didn't know this but we had planned to be married in the spring of last year."
"That wasn't your fault Bobby. Scott and I were talking. You need a break from all of this. Why don't you take some time off. Go on vacation. When you come back you might feel better."
"Alright, Charles. I'll leave tommorow."
"Excellent. I will see you later."
I watch as he leaves wondering if he is actually serious? A vacation? This must be some sort of a joke or something, but who am I to question him? I will go. I will go and I will tell you our story. I think you will find it a most interesting one.