I tried writing last night but frustrated myself by apparently being unwilling to put fingers on keys to compose text, even though my head was bursting with event memories.
Then today a lot more happened that I need to get down, but now I'm tired, a little tipsy, and again not in the best shape to generate process words.
One thing I will get out now is one of the things that struck me about today, Commencement Day, which I've come to see as the Great Day of Change, where people leave, the atmosphere of campus changes, and everyone begins a process of reset and renewal in the weird annual cycle of this town.
One of the psych chicks who got her PhD today is a woman named Melanie. She's in the class behind Kate's, which is a class that doesn't have much cohesion, so any connections I have with any of them are more or less incidental and one-on-one. For whatever reason, I never had any connection with Melanie. I recognize her, we said hi, we chatted a bit, and that was about it. So her matriculation and departure should really not have much effect on me, and in fact I suspect it really won't.
And yet as she and her fiance left one of the graduation parties we were at tonight, as I said goodbye and waved, it hit me: I will never see you again. And I was sad.