I should have written before this moment. I should have recorded a bucket list of things to accomplish before graduation, and I probably should have written out an actual list of goals to accomplish before I turn twenty-five. I should have applied for more jobs, I should have spent more time studying, and I definitely should have thought more about what I want to do after my days here in Ohio are complete.
Instead, I’ve been thinking about how each of my friends hugs differently, and how each of them smells incredibly unique. People and their homes all smell differently, and that’s kinda weird. Like, not bad-weird…just weird. Do animals think we smell weird?
I’ve also thought about the books I want to read after graduation, the fiction and non-fiction that I still need to buy or get from the library. I’ve thought even more about the relationships I hold closest, and about how I will inevitably let some of those people go from my sphere of direct influence. It hurts to think about that, but just as campus golfers lose tennis balls to the lake, so I need to let others make their own ways in the world.
(I’m failing my philosophy professor with these lame metaphors)
I will miss the boyfriends and brothers of my friends, I will miss the girls who lived on my hall, and I will miss the most cohesive team I have ever worked with. I will miss my wooden bench and my holey bench, the stairs by the water and the stairs that get slippery from wet boots in the wintertime. I will miss the eternally-long burrito line, I will miss Tyler 102, and I will miss the resounding voices of Cedarville that sing out in defiance against darkness.
I want to cry. I want to sit in my empty hall and pray over each room, sobbing as the dusty sunlight flows out of each room. I want to sit and memorize every sunset until May 5th. I want to lose this awful weight that is something between anxiety and apathy, between uncertainty and depression. Twenty-two and transitions go together like hipsters and Patagonia.
(I’ve never been a fan of expensive fashion trends)
The pear trees are budding, I graduate in ten days, and God is at work in my life. He is a sure and steady foundation, the only One among these endings who will endure. He is faithful, and I can trust Him.