A Letter to an Irish Teacher That Went Slightly Askew

I often wonder if I lose touch with people so that I won't have to feel the bittersweet joy of conversing with them from afar.
Don't mind me, finals are simply messing with my head.
Finals and friends running off to be lovers, to be married, never to be parted, only to be parted from me.
Writing to an Irish teacher while listening to an Irish troubador, the melencholy is now characteristic of them both.
Listen closely, he has no happy songs.
Sad and haunting, they speak of misunderstandings, disbelief, confusion, love lost, love found with the wrong person because can't you see I am only using A because B left with C.
B could not see through C to see me.
No love, no glory, no hero in her skies.
I love those whom I love.
I take for granted those who are near.
I long for those who are far.
There is no winning, only pining in one direction or another.
Happiness visits only to bring her cousin full of bittersweet joy.
Is nothing left pure, unmixed?
Can we survive pure, unmixed?

Life

I know I have been terribly negligent in my writings here. They have never been much more than observations and life just seems to full sometimes for simple observations. I do feel good though this morning. After finally working the details out and realize it is going to take me an entire extra year to graduate, not counting an internship, I was kind of sad. I is that moment where just go, "GET ME OUT OF HERE." And then, today, in Spanish one of my group members who is in her first year and only her second qtr said that she wanted to quit. She was tired of college. Instead of wholeheartedly agreeing with her I found myself defending the tedium that is college life. It is something we use to reach a higher end. As long as we believe that higher end is worth the time, effort and stress then college is worth it as well.