To my fellow second semester seniors,
It's hard to believe we made it here. Mere weeks stand in between us and the day we (tragically) have to walk across the stage in May and leave the college bubble forever. There are way too many things wrong with that sentence.
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For starters, when will it ever be socially acceptable to go out on a Monday ever again in our lifetimes? Or Tuesday? Wednesday? Really any week night. Or nap for hours mid-day, totally avoiding any and all responsibilities? How do they expect you to just not live feet away from your best friends? To not get food at 2 AM after spending all night in the library? To not drunkenly order pizza after another night out? To not sit up all night, talking about all the stupid boys and all the stupider memories?
Existing in the real world sounds downright terrifying. Having to put on my big girl pants and pretend to be an adult sounds like the plot of a horror movie at this point. Where am I going to live? What am I going to do? Where are my friends going to live? Are we still going to see each other? Are we going to end up like those sad, post-grads who communicate solely via text and look forward to plans months in advance? Are we now too old to hate ourselves the morning after a night of drinking? How do you get your shit together?
These and more questions swirl around in my head, keeping me up most nights. Staring at my ceiling, I have answers to essentially none of those questions. I've barely made it through mid-terms (my LAST mid-terms; never thought that would be sad), and they think I'm capable of making real life decisions? I wish that was the case, but it couldn't be further from the truth. These days, I'm far more concerned with celebrating each day, committing each moment to memory, and attempting to be totally present in the remaining months I do have.
The future is looming, but more importantly, my days of college life are numbered. For the next two months, I can eat crap at 3 AM and the calories don't count. I can down a bottle of wine with my best friends on a week night, go to class hungover the next morning, and be thankful for every second of it all. I can go out on Friday nights and completely hate myself by the next morning, but I have a camera roll full of memories, and that's all that really matters.
As scary and uncertain as the next few months may be, I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that these were some of the best years of my life. My friends were more than people who I went to the mall with and hung out with after class. They were my people; the people I chose and who chose me. Who I ate more meals with, went to more movies with, spent my snow days with, traveled the world with. My dorm rooms were where all my best memories were made. Where I'm truly glad the walls can't take because they know as many secrets as my friends do. Where there were messes and mistakes and monumental moments. Where I spent hours getting ready, and days hiding from my responsibilities. This place became my home.
I don't want to leave college. The anxiety and the nerves surrounding that fateful day in May are at an all-time high. And yet despite the seemingly infinite number of question marks surrounding the future, and as much as I want a rewind button at my fingertips, I wouldn't trade a minute of it for the world. Amidst all the late nights, early mornings, and awful classes, that's where the memories were made. And, so college, though our expiration date is drawing near, I know I won't be able to shake you entirely. And for that, I'm forever grateful.
