I’m very unsure how this all happened. Somehow, the past seven days have consisted of…
- thinking about studying and then not
- bullshiting my finals
- happy hours, breakfasts, lunches, dinners with professors and coworkers
- a date with Austin who I met out one night
- decorating my graduation cap
- putting on my cap, gown, and tassel, as I looked at myself in the mirror and took a deep breath
- a campus tradition for graduates
- champagne, champagne, champagne
- another night out with Austin
- figuring out Austin in 29
- being told that 7 years is an ok age difference
- no sleep
- walking across the stage and GRADUATING
- grad parties. everywhere.
- a night out with what felt like the whole university
- and Austin, again
It flew by and it is surreal.
“It will hit me in maybe a month,” Brittany confessed. My roommates and best friends of three years and I sat quietly on the floor of our living room. Our graduation robes tossed carelessly across the couch, the coffee table, in the corner of the room, the festivities had quieted down and we sat still, just thinking. “It will hit me when you two move out,” Susan countered. After a long, peaceful pause I took a breath. “It will hit me when everyone goes back to the University of Hipsterville in the fall and we won’t,” I concluded. “Because then it’s really over”.
And it really is over. The goodbyes are beginning, my first friend to move is leaving tomorrow. Then another four on Tuesday. I’m moving in 18 days.
A bittersweet blur that will forever be burned into my memories and buried deep in my heart.