If you would have asked me three weeks ago how I was handling the idea of becoming a college senior, I would have told you not well. In fact, so not well that I cried in my car listening to Jason Aldean's "I'll See You When I See You" about six times before I stopped torturing myself. I would have told you I wasn't ready. Then today, I sat on the front steps of lycoming for what I thought would be twenty minutes but turned into an hour, staring straight down the meridian "graduation steps" with my eyes fixated on the mirage of the podium where they call out names one after the other with sporadic applause accompanying.
At this time of year, the campus is pretty packed. The quad is full of Frisbee throwers, sun bathers, artists putting rocks on their papers to keep from blowing in the wind. I was just one of them, reading After Alice by Gregory Maguire, stopping at the moment where Ada just starts to descend down the rabbit hole and ses all of these inherit things she's lost fitting into the sides of the hole as if on shelves. I started to imagine what sort of items would be on my shelves. A lot of socks, probably, to start, and bobby pins and post-it notes and the rental book I had to pay $35.60 to replace (always remember to return your rentals, people).
But then, I tried to imagine how much time I could fit on thos shelves. Time I spent overthinking scenarios instead of just letting them happen, falling dizzy over the paisley pattern on my quilt instead of sleeping. Time writing and rewriting text messages into the notepad on my phone instead of just pressing send. Time worrying about things that, I promise, won't matter a year from now.
My days are usually spent in a constant buzz of places I should be, places I need to be, the places I am. I'm incredibly involved in my campus life, which is exhausting. I highlight, I cross out, I set alarms twenty minutes early so I can at least snooze twice. Don't get me wrong, I'm in love with every single activity or club or job I participate in, especially because I have the opportunity to engage with a wide range of people. I'm always sending an email, reading a text, having a conversation, sometimes two at one time. My external stimuli and the energy I harvest from others is constant. Real reason I'm scared to graduate? I don't want to lose that.
But even though I still might believe that I'm not ready quite yet, I know that things are going to be alright. Flipping between pages of Ada's adventure in Wonderland, I find the mirage fading and the clarity of the day I'm sitting in coming into full view. I am overflowing with bliss and excitement to have the best year yet here at Lycoming. To cultivate as many memories as I can while also pursuing my goals and bettering myself. Right now, I am hot, I am uncomfortable on this concrete, but best of all, I'm not so scared anymore.