It’s strange how five years can fit into a single cardboard box—a calendar, a mug, a few scattered notes, and an ID card that has faithfully hung around my neck every day. My desk looks emptier than it ever has, and my heart feels heavier than I expected.

When I joined this office, I thought it would just be a job. A place to work, learn, and move on from when the time was right.

What I didn’t realize was that in between the deadlines and meetings, I would find people who would quietly change my days , who would always save me a seat at lunch and the small inside jokes that would make long days bearable — these moments which were not part of my offer letter, but actually became the biggest and most special part of my journey.

Offices are made of walls and systems, yes — but they are also made of people. And it’s the people I’ll miss most.

This farewell is hard not because I’m scared of what comes next, but because I’m leaving behind a version of myself that only existed here.

The one who grew from mistakes, who found confidence through uncomfortable situations, who laughed a little louder in cafeteria corners, and the one who learnt to be more human from challenges and difficult people.

It is hard because it holds both sadness and gratitude at once. Sadness for leaving behind the familiar faces and corners of this place, and gratitude for everything it has given me — lessons, friendships, and a version of myself that I might never have discovered elsewhere.

As I walk out for the last time, I know I carry more than memories. I carry growth, connections, and the comforting reminder that always be hopeful because life has a way of creating happiness through unexpected chapters — the kind that leave a mark for a long time.

Goodbyes are never easy. But this one feels like a quiet promise — that no matter where I go, a little part of me will always belong here.🥹 ❤️