I -Show no emotion when you start to cry;
Can't let you see what you mean to me;
When my hands are tied, and my heart's not free;
We're not meant to be- b Hardest Thing I'll ever do by- 98 degrees
Although she begged and pleaded with you to stay at school, she didn't know that your departure from her was twice as difficult for you as it was for her. Over the past twenty years, you'd come to mean so much to each other. She was the guiding hand that you never knew during your life. To you, she was a rarity among all the influences in your life. True, like all the others, you both disagreed, but she never condescended you or condemned you based solely upon her opinions.
She took your vices twisted them, and reshaped them into virtues that became appreciated by everyone you came into contact with through her. You'd never ever be able to thank her enough for all that she'd done, but now, it was time to go. It was time to put the past behind you; because, the most important part of it was gone.
You look at your broom and your cat and wave goodbye to them before you set off to join a world that is as foreign to you as you are to it. You've fashioned for yourself credentials that will fit your new calling, and you've even taken to changing your appearance.
As you journey by foot to your chosen destination, you pray that you will lose yourself in this new world never to be found again. There, you hope to embrace a mindless monotony of function that will oust any moment or chance you have at partaking of introspection. Thinking of everything that has happened and of everyone you've lost will only tear you apart further.
You walk to the bus depot, and board your carriage; forever saying goodbye to the past. Goodbye, Constance Hardbroom and hello Dianne Goodfellow.