I don't know what I'm feeling right now.
Earlier this evening, I attended a farewell dinner.
Two more friends are leaving us to study abroad.
It was a curious thing to see, three dozens of high school friends and acquaintances from so different lives brought together for this occasion.
Everybody have their own clique and I don't have any, so I flitted around, wandering aimlessly.
Old friends I talked to, every one of them brought up the psychologist stereotype, so I obliged them.
Eventually I settled comfortably.
After the bills were paid for, we lingered outside the restaurant, taking gazillions of photographs.
To commemorate that moment?
To avoid regret?
To have a keepsake of our encounter?
We were milling about on a balcony overlooking a quiet square, hesitating to leave but not daring to voice it out.
I was staring across the square at other people, other gatherings, other buildings.
The guys were planning to go for another round of gathering.
Others were chatting non-stop, taking pictures, or sitting quietly.
From that moment till now, I've been filled with this nameless feeling.
I felt it when I was faking smiles at the camera lenses.
I felt it when I parted with all my friends.
I felt it when I fetched a friend to get her car.
I felt it when my companion narrated her stories to me.
I felt it when I was finally alone, driving home.
I felt it when I sent a text message to thank my friend.
I feel it even now, as I'm typing all this, waiting for my hair to dry.
Not a thing from all I've learned in psychology can tell me what this feeling is.
