Saying Goodbye

It seems like yesterday. We sat around the table, drinking beer, laughing, having fun. Little did I know, that this evening would lead to something dreadful. Little did I know that what seemed like a triviality, would have major consequences.

It was early in the semester, plans, hopes, dreams and intentions. Things were new for us all, new subjects, new time tables, new challenges. I personally had nothing to do with what was decided that evening, I was just the observer. I remained silent when I should spoken, still when I should scream "No, for the love of GOD, NO!". Knowing that you could have done something makes it even harder to say goodbye. But it is inevitable, at a certain point you simply cannot refuse to open your eyes - see the facts - accept the facts.

So here I am, trying to enjoy the last evening with you. Somehow it is hard to realise that you will no longer be here tomorrow. Hard to realise cause I do not want to realise it. Please, give me one more day - one more week. Why now?

I'm drawing my fingers through you one last time, not wanting to let go. But I have to face the truth. You will not even die a graceful death. Tomorrow you will be cut off by an electric razor, fall in a pile of dead hair, and later be flushed down the toilet - what a fate! You will be gone - and my boyfriend will end up looking like an egg. But in all the sorrow, it is important to see, that it is not over. Hair grows out again. The world goes on. However, before this happen: if you will see five eggheads wandering around the streets of Leipzig, you know that they all sat around the table the very night in question - the night that would change their lives more than they knew.

So what's the deal here? What happened this special evening? I think the time has come to tell you, readers: This very evening my boyfriend and his friends came up with this wacko idea of shaving their heads if they were to pass a certain exam at the end of the semester. And great news - they passed. And here I am - about to be the girlfriend of what looks like an egg. A charming egg - he'll get that. I'll just have to think every day that it's hair - it grows out again.

Well, well.. Now I'm spending the rest of the evening with my soon-to-be egg, parting with his hair, in other words: Goodbye.