You’re nostalgic when you end something. When you complete something. No matter how much you hated it during, you miss it infinitely, afterward. Whatever it is. High school. College. A job. A car. A husband, a wife. You might hate school, you might despise your teachers, but when it’s over, you’re excited and anxious, at first. But then you miss them. You miss those teachers. You miss those fuckin’ assholes. Because you know that you will never see those people ever again as long as you’re alive. It dawns on you, and… it makes you sad.

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