September is gone, to me, exactly.
September means so much to students in China. I believe it also does in most of countries in the world. Because we register for the new academic year in autumn. And there are two working in educational industry. So September means more to me.
September means another new beginning to me every year. After summer holidays, when September came, I began to tidy up my sportful mind and went to school again. It could be said that September gave me new life since I went to the primary school as a pupil.
Every year, September is like an inflexion point which can take me some differentiation. When September came, it seemed I was one year older in "school age". It meant I grew up, at least in schooling. It gave me re-birth. It wasn’t odd that I cherished September very much. Actually, I always cherish September. I’m sure I’ll do that like what I did in the past sixteen years.
But September is gone.
Although I’m not willing to see it happen, it really happens. From now on, I must adapt myself to life without September. I must tell myself there is no September anymore in my calendar. Instead, what God leaves to me are just weekdays and weekends.
Originally, I meant to title this September The Last September. But now, when I was ready to write something, I found I was completely wrong. It’s September when I was a senior at university that is the last September.
I’ve been aware that September won’t belong to me again, even if only once. So I’ve started out to pursue my new September.