Dazed Days

I'm sitting, alone, in the dining hall eating some warm potato soup. I'm reading this year's last edition of the school newspaper and just reflecting on my first year of independent(ish) living.
It has gone by entirely too fast. I remember carefully unpacking all my things into the small confines of room 307, and admiring my roommate for her matching belongings. All her things were the girliest of colors, polka-dotted and striped, everything tucked into perfection. I took a look at all of my mismatched things, all of which I hung and placed with half-hearted pride, in hopes that she wouldn't think of me oddly.
I remember crying when my parents left and walking around my new room alone for the first time. It was exhilarating. I loved it.
I remember the first time I got drunk in college, and the last time I tried to be part of a college party. I remember all the cute boys Ive looked at, and all the drunk girls I've nursed to hangovers. I remember all the fights I've gotten into with Jenna, and all the times we repeated our sorrys. I remember all the movies we watched on our crappy playstation. I remember all the times we cleaned our room and ran to the dumpster with arms full or trashbags. I remember all the trips I took home, and all the long drives back.
I am really sad to leave even if its only for a few months. I am really sad that not all of my friends are returning.
But I'm overjoyed that it all happened. It all actually happened, life happened. Life beautifully and magnificently happened.
I sit here, alone, reading the goodbye letters in the paper, and here I am, writing my goodbye letter to myself, myself as a freshman.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8