A Farewell I Never Had


It's strange to watch everyone express their sorrow about leaving school, while I feel... nothing.
They carry the weight of parting—losing friends, memories, and the familiar walls of their school.
But me? I had already left after 10th. I had already mourned.

I try to feel something, anything—
But maybe I’ve been numb for too long.
Not because I lack emotions, but because life forced me to grow up too soon.

I remember grieving over my loss while my batchmates simply adapted to a new academic year.
When I lost my teachers, my school, my comfort—
They stayed with the same classrooms, the same faces, the same familiarity.

Now, everywhere—Instagram, YouTube, every platform—
People describe how it feels to leave school, to say goodbye.
And here I am, realizing that I never even got the chance to experience it.
It’s not that I didn’t get a farewell—
We had a party. We ate, we danced, we wore sarees.

But is that really farewell?
Shouldn’t it be about saying goodbye to teachers, promising friends to stay in touch,
Feeling the bittersweet pain of parting?
I never got to say goodbye to my teachers.
Not because I wouldn’t miss them—
But because I was already used to missing them.

Life is cruel.
No matter how hard you try, you will always lose something.

I remember visiting my school a month after joining coaching.
The same teachers stood there, familiar yet distant.
I didn’t know what to say beyond a polite greeting.
I felt like a stranger in a place I once called home.

I can’t even put into words what it feels like—
Maybe because life was unfair enough to steal the last two years of my school life.
It wasn’t a farewell; it was an abrupt exile.
No celebration, no transition, no closure.
Just a sudden, painful shift—like being pushed into a void.

A shock so deep that it made me wish for an escape.
Not because I’m weak,
But because I had no idea how to deal with it.

At Allen, teachers mocked me.
I, who was once seen as a person, was suddenly treated like a mere number.
It wasn’t about marks—I was still in the top 5 in mock tests.
But no matter how well I did, I was made to feel like I wasn’t enough.

And it didn’t take long for me to believe it.

I moved from the front bench to the last.
I let go of everything I once held dear—
My discipline, my self-respect, my identity.
I sat however I wanted, cared about nothing,
Because why bother when everything had already been decided?

Maybe I made the wrong choice.
Maybe I shouldn’t have gone for NEET coaching.
Because somewhere along the way, I stopped studying.

Now, when my old teachers ask me how my studies are going,
I don’t know how to answer.
Do I tell them the truth?
That I am no longer the person they once knew?
That I have fallen further than I ever thought possible?

I’ve thought about ending it—
Four or five times, if I’m honest.

And yet, despite all the mental health awareness out there,
Everything still comes down to money.
Therapists, support systems—they all have a price tag.
If I had the money, would I even be searching for help online?

But you know what’s strange?
Even when you long for death, it’s still terrifying.

I wish I could tell my teachers:
“Please, don’t remember me anymore. Forget I ever existed.
Maybe that way, I can finally find peace.”

I know others who walked the same path as me and are doing well.
I tried too—I really did.
But now, I don’t even know how to try anymore.

I just want to disappear.
To escape to a place where no one knows me.
To become invisible, unnoticed, forgotten.

I’m exhausted.
Exhausted of being the center of attention,
Of having my self-worth shattered again and again.

I know no one is at fault,
But I also know I am broken.
So what now?
What am I supposed to do?

I’m not strong enough to keep fighting.
I don’t want to beg for someone to listen anymore.

I just want to rest.

I hate that I was born into a system where NEET and JEE are treated as the only options.
I don’t want to be a doctor.
I don’t want to be an engineer.

So what does that mean?
Should I just stop existing?

I don’t regret choosing PCMB.
I regret choosing this path.
And I hate that to study biology, I still have to prove myself in math.

I want my parents and teachers to stop expecting anything from me.
Because I have already given up.
I no longer expect anything from myself.

I just want to see how long this game will last.
How much more life can take from me.
How much more numb I can become.

Let’s see.
Let’s see how far this cruelty goes.

Because honestly?
I don’t know how much more I can handle.

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