Here I sit in a lonely hotel room, lamenting the fact that the past year has been lived in a daze of broken hearts and thoughtless nights of wishing that all of it would go away and I could return to the comfort of my home, the arms of my friends, and the healing of new love.
Coming into freshman year, I remained the naive stuck-in-love 18 year old who believed that sometimes things aren’t what they seem, that there is more that awaits, that chasing a guy who breaks up with you is acceptable. I let my heart run me amuck until I was left alone, chasing myself in circles, wondering where I went wrong and how I ended up playing this game alone.
I applied to transfer colleges in the vague attempt to mask the fact that I didn’t choose the wrong school but that I am in the wrong place, doing what I shouldn’t be doing, wishing I could run in circles in the mountains rather than in a dorm room with a roommate who hasn’t quite yet learned that other people also matter.
And yet here I sit, praying for a successful transfer, not for the school, per say, but for happiness, for a chance to return to the comforts of my family and friends, to continue my life whole once more. Everyone says that growing up means leaving your family and leaving your friends and finding yourself, but what if that’s just what we’ve been telling ourselves in order to survive this vicious cycle of being alone?
I wasn’t sad to pack up my clothes and leave campus today, but I wasn’t relieved either. The past year sits in a state of equilibrium in my mind such that it might as well have never have happened. I lost myself, but then I found out, once more, that my goofiness lived on beneath the sadness and all it took is a kind soul to revive it.
I began the year in love. I think I’m ending it with a new beginning, falling for an old friend whose kindness, intelligence and wit are matched by none. And for that, I am thankful.
Forgive the lack of poetry in this piece; it needed, in part, to be written, but also, in part, to be read.
Don’t let your year waste away as I did mine.