Why is saying goodbye so painful?

May 1st was Decision Day at Bishop Gorman High School, and I was proud to wear the brand new Kale University T-shirt that my mother had bought for me online. I got a few odd looks when I wore the black and red T-shirt with Kale's brand new slogan printed on it, but I could not possibly care less. In my mind, I was already at Kale, making new friends and enriching my mind in ways that my high school never could.

"What school is that T-shirt even for?" a boy in my Spanish class said. "I don't think any of the schools around here have black and red as their school colors."

"I don't just want to be a footnote in someone else's happiness," a girl in my math class read off of my T-shirt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I ignored the girl, but I had thought about that very question myself. In the end, the new Kale University slogan was self-explanatory. It was only encouraging people like me to carve out their own place in the world, instead of working too hard to make other people happy. Certainly, there had to be some value in making other people happy, but I did appreciate the sentiment of the new slogan. Hopefully, Kale University would give me the tools that I needed to be more than just a footnote.

The last month of high school was a blur. Time seemed to fly by, and it was impossible to tell whether it was really flying or if it was just an illusion caused by my excitement over attending Kale in the fall. Before I knew it, it was graduation day.

In the terms and conditions of the Common Application, it says that your acceptance to any school is dependent on your "honorable dismissal" from your current high school. I could only imagine how much better graduations would be if they were honorable dismissals. There would be no need for a cap and gown, and the ceremony itself would last about two minutes. The principal would simply tell all of us that we were honorably dismissed, and we would leave, and high school would be over.

Unfortunately, that's not what happened at my high school graduation. Instead, I sat through two hours of speeches and far too many renditions of Pomp and Circumstance before the magical moment when I left high school finally arrived.

"Ryan Ross!" I heard the principal say.

"I love you, Ryan!" Mom screamed. I stood up and walked up to the stage, accepted my diploma, and returned to my seat, slightly embarrassed, but mostly just wondering whether the diploma that I held in my hands meant anything. It wasn't like I was going to get a decent job with a high school diploma alone, and even a college degree didn't guarantee success in life. Did the celebration mean anything if the diploma didn't? My heart sank as I listened to the principal call the rest of my fellow students' names and I realized the pointlessness of it all. Why do we do so many things that have no meaning? Isn't it such a waste of our short lives?

My spirits were lifted when I thought of Kale again. Before long, my lonely high school career would be over and I would be at my dream school. Who cared if graduation or high school had meant nothing? College would surely be a meaningful experience.

I tossed my cap into the air with the rest of the student body, and finally, the nightmare that was high school was over. At last, I was honorably dismissed.

The summer before my freshman year at Kale University was rather uneventful. I spent most of it walking my dog, practicing the piano, reading and re-reading my favorite books, and telling everyone I knew how wonderful Kale would be. Most of the people in Las Vegas didn't even know that Kale existed, and they didn't understand just how amazing Kale was even after I explained it to them, but my friends and family did seem happy for me.

"Kale?" one of my classmates once said to me. "Don't you mean Yale?"

"No, I mean Kale," I said. "I'm not smart enough to go to Yale."

"I didn't know that there was a school called Kale," the girl said. "Where is it?"

"Old Haven, Connecticut," I said.

"Oh come on," the girl said. "You're definitely confusing it with Yale."

Despite the number of people who didn't quite understand my love for Kale University, I couldn't wait to go there. The only thing that kept me going through my last summer before college was the knowledge that I would go to Kale in August, and it would be the greatest experience of my life.

The summer seemed to drag on forever, and I wondered why the universe felt the need to stretch out my anticipation. The more I wanted time to speed up so I could get to Kale faster, the more it seemed to slow down. However, that fateful August day did arrive.

Mom and I went to McCarran International Airport early that morning, with all of my belongings split up between the two of us. Just like I had with my previous trip to Kale, I watched the Vegas lights dwindle away until even the individual buildings seemed to disappear under the clouds. Because I seem to have terrible luck, I ended up directly in front of a crying toddler who managed to spend the entire flight kicking the back of my seat, but it was all worth it for Kale.

After we landed at the Tweed-New Haven Airport, Mom and I caught a taxi to Old Haven. "You're one of the new Kale students, right?" the taxi driver said to me when she saw all of my luggage.

"Yes, yes I am," I said, grinning. Already, it felt wonderful to tell people that I was a student at Kale.

"I can't believe my son's going off to college already!" Mom said.

"Mom, it's fine," I said. "You can call me whenever you need me."

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you, Ryan," Mom said. "I've spent eighteen years of my life taking care of you, and now you're leaving!"

"You'll be fine, Mom," I said. "I will miss you though."

"I'll miss you too," Mom said.

The taxi pulled up in front of the Kale University campus, and I grabbed all of my suitcases and hopped out. I then took a deep breath and then walked through the Kale University gates for the first time as a student. It was an unbelievable feeling, like a new era had begun in my life.

Once I arrived on campus, however, I had no idea how to get to my residence hall. I looked around frantically, but the only person I knew was my mom, and she didn't know where Flack Hall was. After only a few moments, I began to panic.

An older, dark-skinned woman came up to me and said, "Are you looking for your residence hall?"

I nodded and said, "I'm supposed to be at Flack Hall."

"I'll walk you there," the woman said. "I'm Professor Caldwell, and I teach philosophy here at Kale."

"That's so cool," I said. "I'm Ryan Ross, and I want to major in philosophy."

"That's wonderful," Professor Caldwell said. "I hope to see you in my Introduction to Philosophy class during the fall semester."

As it turned out, Flack Hall was quite far away from the Kale University gates. Then again, maybe the isolation would be good. Perhaps it would help me bond with the other freshmen living in Flack without all of the upperclassmen interfering. As much as I hate to admit it, human interaction is good for the soul.

Flack Hall was an ancient little building sitting right at the corner of campus, and Professor Caldwell walked me right up to its doorstep. "Do you need any help unloading your stuff?" she asked me.

"No, I think I'm okay," I said as I pulled all of my luggage into Flack Hall. My room was on the second floor, but I was certain that I could make it there.

As I mentioned earlier, I almost always have horrible luck. Everything seems to go wrong in my life when I least expect it, and I'm not sure if fate has some sort of grudge against me or not. Simple mathematics can't possibly explain my luck.

I didn't have too hard of a time rolling my luggage through the first floor of Flack Hall, but I didn't quite realize that the residence hall didn't have an elevator. I would have to drag all of my stuff up a flight of stairs, which would be tough, but I knew that I could do it.

I began carrying my suitcases up the stairs, but the weight was killing me. There was no air conditioning in Flack Hall either, so sweat dripped down my forehead as I tried to haul my heaviest suitcase upstairs. Mom eventually made it up the staircase, but I had more stuff to carry, so it took me a little bit longer.

"Ryan! I think I found your dorm room!" Mom exclaimed as I continued to yank my luggage upstairs, boiling in the summer heat. I tried to respond to her, but I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs.

For a moment, I couldn't move, but perhaps this was all just a cruel joke that God wanted to play on me, symbolizing my slavery to my fate. There was no way to tell. Whether it was cruel joke or just a result of my poor coordination, I was stuck at the bottom of the staircase, watching the world spin as two other freshmen chatted next to me. Mom hadn't seen me fall, so even she couldn't help me.

"What just happened?" a girl said as she looked in my direction.

"He can't be bleeding on the floor just for the attention," someone else said.

"Yeah, that's just ridiculously odd," the first girl said.

All of a sudden, a short boy wearing a fedora entered Flack Hall. He immediately noticed me lying on the floor and ran to my side. "Are you okay?" he asked as he tapped my shoulder.

"I'm not okay," I said. "I promise."

I raised my head slightly to get a better look at the boy. He had brown hair and blue-green eyes, and he was wearing a shirt, socks, and a hat. "What's wrong?" the boy asked as he gave me a concerned look.

"I fell down the stairs while I was trying to get my stuff up to my dorm room," I explained.

"Here, I'll help you get your stuff up there," the boy said as he helped me off the ground. "Your leg is bleeding a little bit, but I have a first aid kit in one of my suitcases. We can get that fixed up in a moment."

"Don't you have your own stuff to carry?" I said.

"I'll get it later," the boy said. "I'm Patrick, by the way. What's your name?"

"I'm Ryan," I said. "Wait, my roommate's name is Patrick. Are there two Patricks living here? That would be pretty odd, but what's in a name anyways?"

"Which room are you in?" Patrick asked.

"I'm in Room 27," I said.

"So am I," Patrick said.

"You don't look like your Facebook profile picture at all," I said.

Patrick shrugged and said, "I'm not on the Internet all that much."

Between the two of us, Patrick and I got all of our stuff up to the second floor, and as promised, Patrick helped me bandage my injured leg. The two of us spent the rest of the evening decorating our shared dorm room, with some help from both my mother and Patrick's parents, all to the sound of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

At around eleven o'clock, I heard someone knock on the door. I opened the door and saw someone that I recognized from the Facebook roommate search page. "Hey, I'm Andy, and I live in dorm room next to you guys," the boy said. "Could you turn down the music a little? Joe and I are trying to sleep."

"Fine," I said as I turned down the music slightly. It was getting rather late, and I was getting a little bit tired.

"I should probably go," Mom said a few minutes later as tears came to her eyes. She gave me a hug and said, "Goodbye Ryan. I love you so much, and I'll miss you when you're away."

"I love too, Mom," I said, blinking away tears. After a few minutes, Mom let go and walked out the door, leaving me all alone in an unfamiliar dorm room. Watching her go pained me more than anything, but it was all because I cared about her. Mom had sacrificed so much of her life for me, and now we would both be alone. No wonder saying goodbye hurt both of us so much.

I turned off the music, switched off the lights, and climbed into bed. Even with Patrick snoring softly on the other side of the room, my mind couldn't stop thinking of my mother driving back to a hotel room on the other side of town. I comforted myself by remembering that I hadn't truly lost her. I could call Mom whenever I needed her, after all. I drifted off to sleep before long, with thoughts of my future at Kale floating through my mind.