My Soup of Emotions

Sugar, coffee, and hot water. Stir it and take a sip, that’s how I would describe my day in one sentence which is not even a sentence.

It was as if several emotions were poured down into a huge basin and they all mixed together. But the strongest feeling really was sadness, there’s a big chunk of it floating in my chicken noodle soup.

Happy. I was delighted to know that I got exempted for finals in one of my Economics subjects. I was really relieved that I get to unload another one of the many luggages I carry for the finals. With four subjects being slashed off my list, I’ll be travelling with fewer bags on finals week. Unfortunately, the two suitcases that were left with me are those that weigh more. So yeah, I still have finance and Philosophy orals next week.

Annoyed. I’m always willing to share what I know to people. I am happy to help, however, it is not my responsibility to explain to the person what he couldn’t understand. Yes we have this co-responsibility but I don’t have that infinite responsibility  on him.

There was this guy from the other Philosophy class, we were under the same professor and he overheard Banjo and I exchanging thoughts regarding the thesis statements for our oral exams. He approached us and asked us if he could join us. Out of the goodness of our hearts, my friend and I agreed to include him in our conversation (although deep inside me I wanted to say “Bullshit. Hell no! I know the kind of person that you are.”).

The guy’s name was Marco. At first I was keeping my cool, patiently explaining the things he was asking me. He kept on badgering nonsense {he was throwing us irrelevant questions by just picking out words from the lectures in class and connecting it to some mundane idea} which irritated me.

I excused myself and told Banjo and the other dude that I have to refill my tumbler and that I would just go to the washroom. On my way to fill my water canister I saw my Philosophy professor on his way to class.

I told him I would sit-in in his last two classes for the day {it’s our last Philosophy lecture so I want to savor and indulge in that moment}. I’m originally from his first class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and I already attended my legitimate schedule but I want to repeat it again– I don’t want it to end. Yes I am addicted to his class.

Going back, I shared what happened, “You know what sir? Your favorite student {I’m sarcastic ok} has been bothering me for an hour already.”

Laughing, he responded, “Really? Who’s that?”

Sir, Marco a.k.a. Lebron. He wants me to repeat everything you talked about in class! I need to drink, I don’t have enough saliva anymore. He’s getting in my nerves!”

Haha! Oh gosh! Good luck with that!”

Can you imagine, it was the first time we get to know each other {I’ve heard something about his disagreeable behaviors from my friends and of course my professor} and guess what he borrowed my notebook and photocopied it! What the hell. He’s got that guts.

Melancholy. I mentioned earlier that today is our last Philosophy class. It’s the course I love the most, the fuel that keeps the fire burning in me. If it was not for Mr. Cool Guy [my professor] and his class I wouldn’t have the reason to get out of bed each day.

I had been with him for the whole school year and it is not that easy to just say good bye. I grew to love Philosophy because of how he handled the class. I grew to love him not just out of respect or the authority he has but because he is him. Don’t get me wrong this is not a creepy kind of love for a professor. I love him because he showed me what true love is; love and passion for his work– teaching, love and passion to cultivate and stimulate the mind, love and passion for his students.

I am more than sad that on Thursday next week, the day of my oral exam, will be the last time I would see him. He will leave the university after this semester to continue working on his dissertation and he doesn’t have a clear plan as to what he’ll do next.

While sitting on that wooden desk in his classroom, I couldn’t help but feel my inside churning. There’s a strong thrust on my chest slowly tearing my heart apart. There was no tears… no they did not want to stream down and flow freely. {After next week I’ll devote a post for him}

I want the hands of my watch to stop, the time to stop. I want to sit there and listen repeatedly to whatever he has to say.

I will definitely miss his class, Mr. Cool Guy, the knowledge and ideas that flow freely in his class. It is rare to find a professor, a counselor, a father, a brother, and a best friend concretized in one person. Ahhh. I want to cry.

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