(Personal) Quick Thoughts for Freshman Year

A few hours ago, I finished my last final, marking the end of my freshman year. Just yesterday, I had imagined this moment to be celebratory and liberating, but honestly, I’m feeling a bit empty right now. As I see everyone around me pack up their things and leave, it’s suddenly really quiet. I can hear my own thoughts, and I’m compelled to write them down.

I’m afraid to lose. As I’m saying goodbye to the people I’ve grown close with, I realize that it’s not 3 months, 2 months, 1 year, or 2 years I’m apart from them I’m really scared to lose, but rather, it’s the intangible proximity we call friendship. You grow close to those you’re around; you grow distant to those who you aren’t. It’s as simple as that.

When we meet again as changed people, how far apart will we be?

I’m also afraid to lose the mundane: everything I’ve taken for granted. Tonight is the last night I’ll be sleeping in this bed, and I probably won’t ever be able to wake up to the same view. My reality for the past seven/eight months is coming to an end, and what I’ve known as home will no longer be. I’m in transition, and that illuminates the transient nature of life.

But, I think I’m the most afraid to forget. In a few months or years, how much will I still remember? This year went by faster than I realized, and I’ve already forgotten so much. People say that life passes before your very eyes without you even knowing it, and I’m starting to see what they mean. I don’t want my entire life to go by this quickly.

Lastly, I’m afraid to lose what I never had: the opportunities I never grasped and the people I never got to know. It’s everything that could have happened, but didn’t. There’s an infinite amount of experiences in the world, but I can only have a finite amount of them. I guess it’s only fair that everyone is limited in what they can see because that makes them unique, but nevertheless, it makes me feel very small.

I think the right word for all of this is melancholy. I just hope for the best and to be able to better appreciate what’s around me.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.