Last week marked the end of four years of classes, homework, projects and absurd levels of stress and anxiety. Today, I am preparing for my last day living in my college town, Gainesville. I’m leaving tomorrow morning and I have three unfinished and open suitcases, a neatly shuffled pile of papers scattered all over my bedroom floor and things I have yet to pack or throw away. I’m procrastinating because the moment I’m done packing and cleaning, my time in Gainesville is over.
One day I will visit again, but I know coming back won’t feel the same.
Nostalgia knocking on my door.
I am currently sitting on my fifth-floor balcony facing my college campus looking at the fraternity house next to my building complex. I’m watching the sun hiding behind the administration building and the Century Tower as the sky turns orange and light pink. I’m trying to find the right words to explain (maybe to myself) my unique and unforgettable experiences here. I still remember the first day I arrived in Gainesville, so lost, unaware that I would soon live the best years of my life. Years that flew by in the blink of an eye and that would never come back.
My friends and I came to an agreement at the beginning of the spring semester: we would not talk about me graduating and leaving. We avoided saying things like, “This is our last time doing this together.” We preferred to save that for later, or never. But yesterday, I started packing up all my stuff and realized it was time to take down the pictures that decorated my room (and life) since day one. I didn’t take more than three pictures when I felt like I was about to cry. And since the agreement excludes crying, I immediately put them back on the wall.
Figuring out my emotions.
It’s hard to put my emotions on the table and figure out what I’m feeling. Even if I try, it feels like a messy and confusing mix of sadness, nostalgia, fear and excitement. I think I’m ready to venture into the next chapter of my life, but I’m far from ready to close my apartment door. I know that it will also mean never sitting in a classroom again and not sharing an apartment with those strange girls whom I now call my friends. It will also mean not walking around campus or seeing the people around me going through the same struggles as me. It will especially mean not enjoying myself and living like there is no tomorrow.
But I feel so whole knowing that a part of me will stay here in Gainesville at the University of Florida. It’s bittersweet. I’m happy and proud to say that I lived every moment to the fullest, even the bad ones. I felt it all, and if I could, I would go through all the same mistakes and struggles again. I will constantly remind myself that this is just a tiny portion of this crazy journey we call life; therefore, not even a minute of it should be taken for granted.
Time to move forward.
I can’t process the idea of graduating. Maybe because I don’t have concrete plans yet and no idea where to turn to next. Or maybe because leaving my extraordinary life here might be one of the hardest things I’ll do. Sitting on my balcony, watching one last sunset in Gainesville, I’m more aware of how time sneaks by, the special bonds I made and the things I learned. I decided to close my eyes for a moment to stop writing, thinking and feeling. I stopped to make sure that everything was well stored inside me. Okay, I think I’m ready now.
