My special person essay :: essays research papers

MY fussy PERSON When I entered the classroom, for the very last time, I looked around at every little detail, m some(prenominal) of which Id probably ignored, for the sometime(prenominal) four categorys. Birds were singing in a synchronised melody as they flew past our classroom window. There was the natural aroma of fresh coffee berry coming from the teachers lounge next door. My classmates were sitting at their usual desk waiting for the first lesson to begin. But something was different today, something wasnt right. And as I entered the classroom it hit me, like an unseen rocket headed to my pump The silence.All eye were on me, some gave a sorry-youre-leaving-smile, while others looked like they were about to jump off the nearest window.These were my friends, not just any old friends of course, they felt like family, I grew up with these people and at that moment as I stared into each of their eyes I cognise something, something which had always been staring back at me, th ese people were special.Each and everyone had something that make them unique and as they sat there shining like a thousand stars, one of them shined the brightest. Her hanker silky hair covered fractional of her face, but I knew shed been crying, he chestnut coloured eyes tried to avoid meeting mine but when we did exchange glances, I have her a sympathetic smile and she returned the favour.The rest of that day was unspoilt of tears, hugs, a surprise party, games presents and goodbyes. That day will stay with me forever. However I am glad to regulate that wasnt the last time I saw my friends and Im even more glad to say that wasnt the last time I saw my best friend.Its eccentric how two people, who are connected, become even closer when theyre apart. as luck would have it Ginevra came to visit me in London twice after that, but I went back to see her in my hometown every year. As the years past, and as we grew, our friendship grew stronger, like an ever-growing tree, sending i ts roots deeper and deeper into the ground. Every year she would wait for me with open arms. Some people get worn-out with long distant friendship, but not her, she would always stick by me and never let me down.When I lived in Italy for all those nine years I never had the privilege to have any brothers or sisters so I considered her as my own flesh and blood.