The Brat Pack promised to never forget about each other at the end of “The Breakfast… The Brat Pack promised to never forget about each other at the end of “The Breakfast Club.”

In the musical “Rent,” prettily sung goodbyes are all too common (and they lack meaning), but “Goodbye Love” is a really touching song. Seriously.

“Will & Grace” got to say goodbye in a bar — only so appropriate for those who know me well.

I’m leaving on a jet plane, never to come back to (The Pitt News) again.

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past,” Fitzgerald wrote, but I hope to be borne back only too soon.

Rose promised Jack that she would never let go. I hope to attempt the same feat.

Claire Fisher drove down that California highway on the “Six Feet Under” finale, saying goodbye and yet giving a glimpse of the future of those closest to her — such an apt description of what it feels like to type the words of this final column.

At the risk of sounding a little too Green Day, it really was something unpredictable, but in the end it was so, so right.

I certainly had the time of my life.

Pop culturally significant goodbyes — we recognize them, absorb them in a non-relevant moment, possibly shed a tear or two and then we move on. Because really, goodbyes are an of-the-essence experience, affecting us in the most unexpected and potent ways when they suddenly apply to ourselves — our lives — when we least expect it.

And that unexpected occasion would be graduation, less than a week away, and something I am more confused about than Kate Gosselin’s status as a celebrity.

Not that graduation is an unpredictable creature that slithered up and grasped me when I least expected it; no, I knew the end of an era was coming. The problem is not knowing how to cope with it.

It may sound so high school graduation circa 2006, but reaching out to any pop cultural avenue other than my own emotions to find a proper channel for my feelings seems to be the only way I can put my upcoming graduation in perspective. And it’s so beyond high school, because now — sans graduate school or any real plan — I will be thrust headfirst into “real person” territory without a chance to protest. So, I seek solace in my films, my television shows, music, books, theater — even celebrity gossip.

You may laugh, but the Nick and Jessica break up still offers a viable avenue to let my sadness walk down, dejected and cast aside.

I don’t like to own up to my emotions, especially when they might include the possibility of leaky tear ducts or stifled sobs. I also wish that the thought of leaving the best four years of my life (admittedly, only two of them at Pitt) wasn’t so supremely depressing.

It doesn’t have to be, though. Goodbyes are not always meant to be the heartfelt, tear-jerking incidents that popular culture makes them out to be.

The Beatles believe that there is a hello for every goodbye (and Snoopy wishes the same), and the cast of “Friends” was totally loving its final moments together on the small screen. Saying goodbye to millions upon millions of devoted fans, J.K. Rowling let fans know that “All is well” in the Harry Potter universe.

So although this goodbye reeks of sentimentality, I would prefer to end it — and essentially, my career at The Pitt News — on a short, abrupt and happy note.

Peace out, my loyal readers, and remember — Ke$ha is never a good idea.