Well, here goes nothing.
Well, I guess it gets pretty emo from
It’s like being on the brink. The brink of what, I don’t know. But for the first time I’m really not terrified to find out what that means. For the first time, I know I’m more terrified to leave the past than to go into the future.
And it’s true. After this week, nothing will be the same. Nothing. I’d known this was coming for a long time, tried to psych myself up for it, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. The people who have been, in whatever way, closest to me for the bigger part of the last three years are gone. Just like that. I thought it would feel…different. I thought it would be sharp, the left behind not-good-enough feeling I’ve been trying not to entertain for the last year. The same way I always tell myself not to feel, but more intense. It’s not. It’s duller, but deeper. It’s the knowledge that even though I’ll still be here, living my surface life the same way I have been, it will be radically changed. The day to day, the morning, the afternoon, the evening, all different. Different conversations, different emotions, different obligations, different vulnerabilities.
For better or worse, my life in the last three years has been centered on 4 people. It’s a lot for me to admit it, but when I’m at school, they’re almost the entirety of my happiness, pain, rejoicing, and turmoil. Sure, I’m in great classes, have good grades, have two (two!) jobs that I love, am finally academically and professionally satisfied. But that’s…peripheral. That’s not my life. That’s what I do, not what I am. It’s nothing without someone to feel attached to. Someone to talk to at midnight who *knows*, someone to laugh with, someone to cry with, someone to open yourself up to.
And now that part of me, the people who filled that void are…gone. Oh, sure, they’ll be back. In the long run, it’s only a few months. But a few months at 20 is enough to change your life. They’ll be different when they come back - and then again, so will I. For the first time, I’m welcoming the change, both in my life and in myself.
I was afraid that when it came down to it, it would be the loneliness I couldn’t handle. But then I realized - I’ve been lonely for a long time. Lonelier than you would think possible when you’re surrounded by people 24 hours a day and constantly engaged in something. I didn’t let myself feel it until last year, because I was terrified of it. I got through on adrenaline and telling myself I was ok. Surrounded by those people that were my life, I realized that in the end I had no one. I can’t even remember the last time I was at school and I felt like I belonged to something. At home it’s different. I have a family there, and a support system. I have friends with whom I feel on equal terms. Friends I never feel like I’m better than or worse than. At school, and believe me, it’s huge for me to actually admit this, I never feel like I belong, like I’m good enough. I feel like I’m constantly justifying my continued existence here to someone. I don’t know why that’s hard for me to say. I guess just admitting your weaknesses makes you somehow that much weaker, as though people didn’t already know. So what all that means is that I can’t be afraid of loneliness because that’s what I’ve been living with. What I’m afraid of is leaving old patterns of familiarity and old coping mechanisms.
But I’m ready for that to be over. For what it is, I’m getting a clean slate. I’m going to be changing the way I socialize, the way I look at myself, and the way I deal with things. My friends, I’ve realized, were my boundaries. Self-imposed, yes, but there nonetheless. They were my excuse for not getting out and doing more, not fixing myself, not dealing with my baggage. But those “barriers” I made for myself are gone. I’m not saying it’s a quick fix, I’m not saying everything’s going to be better. I’m just…welcoming the change, whatever it brings. That doesn’t mean I won’t miss them. I already do. I miss their laughter and their companionship, their strengths and their weaknesses. That’s probably the hardest part of this, not having those people with their quirks and their joys. And I definitely don’t hold anyone at fault the way things have been, especially not my friends. They did what they could, and in the end it just came down to my fear. But just like they’re off to bigger and better things, I’m realizing that I can be too. In a different way, yes, but no less significant. It’s time for me to see what can be and stop accepting what has been.
What I’m saying here is not meant to imply that I’m glad anyone is leaving or that I won’t miss them. Believe me, in a lot of ways I wish it were different and we could go on just as we have been. I’m just choosing to see this as a good thing, an opportunity for change, rather than getting wrapped up in how hard it’ll be. And in reality I’m insanely happy for them - their experiences next year will forever impact the way they look at the world. It really is the crowing achievement of the undergrad years in a lot of ways. So Godspeed, and make the most of it!
Well, that turned out rather longer than I had hoped. But not a word of it’s untrue, and there’s not a word I would take back. Here’s to the past and to the future!
It’s like being on the brink. The brink of what, I don’t know. But for the first time I’m really not terrified to find out what that means. For the first time, I know I’m more terrified to leave the past than to go into the future.
And it’s true. After this week, nothing will be the same. Nothing. I’d known this was coming for a long time, tried to psych myself up for it, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. The people who have been, in whatever way, closest to me for the bigger part of the last three years are gone. Just like that. I thought it would feel…different. I thought it would be sharp, the left behind not-good-enough feeling I’ve been trying not to entertain for the last year. The same way I always tell myself not to feel, but more intense. It’s not. It’s duller, but deeper. It’s the knowledge that even though I’ll still be here, living my surface life the same way I have been, it will be radically changed. The day to day, the morning, the afternoon, the evening, all different. Different conversations, different emotions, different obligations, different vulnerabilities.
For better or worse, my life in the last three years has been centered on 4 people. It’s a lot for me to admit it, but when I’m at school, they’re almost the entirety of my happiness, pain, rejoicing, and turmoil. Sure, I’m in great classes, have good grades, have two (two!) jobs that I love, am finally academically and professionally satisfied. But that’s…peripheral. That’s not my life. That’s what I do, not what I am. It’s nothing without someone to feel attached to. Someone to talk to at midnight who *knows*, someone to laugh with, someone to cry with, someone to open yourself up to.
And now that part of me, the people who filled that void are…gone. Oh, sure, they’ll be back. In the long run, it’s only a few months. But a few months at 20 is enough to change your life. They’ll be different when they come back - and then again, so will I. For the first time, I’m welcoming the change, both in my life and in myself.
I was afraid that when it came down to it, it would be the loneliness I couldn’t handle. But then I realized - I’ve been lonely for a long time. Lonelier than you would think possible when you’re surrounded by people 24 hours a day and constantly engaged in something. I didn’t let myself feel it until last year, because I was terrified of it. I got through on adrenaline and telling myself I was ok. Surrounded by those people that were my life, I realized that in the end I had no one. I can’t even remember the last time I was at school and I felt like I belonged to something. At home it’s different. I have a family there, and a support system. I have friends with whom I feel on equal terms. Friends I never feel like I’m better than or worse than. At school, and believe me, it’s huge for me to actually admit this, I never feel like I belong, like I’m good enough. I feel like I’m constantly justifying my continued existence here to someone. I don’t know why that’s hard for me to say. I guess just admitting your weaknesses makes you somehow that much weaker, as though people didn’t already know. So what all that means is that I can’t be afraid of loneliness because that’s what I’ve been living with. What I’m afraid of is leaving old patterns of familiarity and old coping mechanisms.
But I’m ready for that to be over. For what it is, I’m getting a clean slate. I’m going to be changing the way I socialize, the way I look at myself, and the way I deal with things. My friends, I’ve realized, were my boundaries. Self-imposed, yes, but there nonetheless. They were my excuse for not getting out and doing more, not fixing myself, not dealing with my baggage. But those “barriers” I made for myself are gone. I’m not saying it’s a quick fix, I’m not saying everything’s going to be better. I’m just…welcoming the change, whatever it brings. That doesn’t mean I won’t miss them. I already do. I miss their laughter and their companionship, their strengths and their weaknesses. That’s probably the hardest part of this, not having those people with their quirks and their joys. And I definitely don’t hold anyone at fault the way things have been, especially not my friends. They did what they could, and in the end it just came down to my fear. But just like they’re off to bigger and better things, I’m realizing that I can be too. In a different way, yes, but no less significant. It’s time for me to see what can be and stop accepting what has been.
What I’m saying here is not meant to imply that I’m glad anyone is leaving or that I won’t miss them. Believe me, in a lot of ways I wish it were different and we could go on just as we have been. I’m just choosing to see this as a good thing, an opportunity for change, rather than getting wrapped up in how hard it’ll be. And in reality I’m insanely happy for them - their experiences next year will forever impact the way they look at the world. It really is the crowing achievement of the undergrad years in a lot of ways. So Godspeed, and make the most of it!
Well, that turned out rather longer than I had hoped. But not a word of it’s untrue, and there’s not a word I would take back. Here’s to the past and to the future!