Where to? What next?

When talks turn in to words. When walks turn in to memories. And when laughters are only heard over the phone or will not even hear it all. THIS IS THE FEAR. The fear of opening the door out and finding yourself nowhere but lost.

I’m 20 and graduating from college. Or atleast that’s how I see it and want to have it.

Am I excited to venture on what’s yet to come? Yes. Am I happy to finally tell my mum what a good news it is to get done of my thesis defense? Yes. Am I ecstatic to look forward to the day I would be splurging my own money over my crazy, sometimes pointless, adventures? Yes.

The bright city lights, that 30-storey building you will soon find yourself pitching for the next project, weekend food trips, end of the month splurging with your family…all these enormous promises when you go out of the university and started working are definitely something to look forward to.

Before my thesis defense, I can’t wait to finish things up and finally bring my four years worth of things out of the dorm, bring it home and find myself a goddamn job that can feed my hopes of living out. I told myself that no matter how tiring things are, I will soon walk out and start discovering every corner of the universe.

Today, I saw myself walking around the university, looking at them like a tattoo engraved in my skin, embracing the same air I used to stop inhaling the first time I set my foot in this place. Today marks the last day of classes…my one last day of classes as an undergraduate student. Now that it’s finally here, I came to ponder…are my dreams the future my feet will follow?

I look back to the day I was seeing myself in that promising enormous picture of what’s next after college and suddenly realize that before that is one hell of a steep mountain I have to hike. Before that is the separation anxiety I have to fight.

For the past few weeks, these two things are the worst ideas running in my mind. It set me overthinking where I would be next or what jobs I wish to apply to and how I will have to separate myself to the people I share not only random breakfasts with but of same principle, beliefs and love for solidarity.

Being in the university for four long years, I have met and built relationships with crazy, brilliant people who became my second family. These are the people directly affected of my emotions and feelings. The people I share the same struggle with and the ones I have from coffee breaks to sleepless hell weeks to the most drunken nights.

I know how much adjustments I have to make when I go out. I can feel how hard the next few years will be, digging in to yourself what career you would really like to take. But I guess what will hit you even more is the part wherein you won’t be literally having the people you have now everywhere you go. The sleepovers will merely be stories and the hugs will just be an emoticon you’re lucky to receive when someone remembers.

If ever there’s that thing called oblivion before death then I guess this is it. In two weeks time, the door opens to another place you are not quite sure where but somehow thrilled to see. In two weeks time, you will have to pack up and bring with you not only your boxes but also memories. But hopefully, not in just a span of two weeks will these friends or family members forget that they have you and you assume that you still have them. Hopefully not in two weeks that the way they call you “brad wru” or “hey breakfast?” become “hello gayle” or “kamusta?” like bullshit NR messages you randomly receive when someone’s just bored. Fingers crossed that if not all, atleast few of your planned get-togethers will really come to life, that despite not being on the same place at the same time your conversations won’t be like the getting-to-know-each-other-in-Tinder kind of thing, that the hugs and spontaneous visits will never grow cold like a zero-degree beer.