The end of the break breaks my heart. My students would feel the same. These brokenhearted creatures miraculously meet and heal each other imperceptibly through the semester. The end of the semester will break some hearts again. Winter will mend them with a surreptitious mix of taken-for-granted oblivion and willfully hectic nights and days. When spring comes all this starts over. Resilience does not apply since every encounter, each parting, and each suffering is helplessly unique. I sometimes summon those old days,humbled by the passage of time, soon to be disturbed by a part of me panting against the high tides of productivity and competitiveness. All these thoughts are so ridiculous, like those immature days.