This is something I easily forget.
I came upon this old post from my former life this morning. It was exactly what I needed to read.
How is it that finish lines can feel so hollow? I was driving home from my exam, the last surge of adrenaline from writing was long gone and had been replaced by the anticipated nausea. I was expecting to feel jubilant. Relieved. Excited. It's strange how coming to the end of a long road can be so anticlimactic.
There have been times in my life where I have felt the pull of endless possibility in many directions so it is a sensation I am already familiar with.
In my minds eye I feel see myself running in a canyon, it's hot and rugged and my head is down to follow the rust colored contours. Running, running, running and then suddenly the ground opens up beneath my feet and I am flying through the air.
So far I have always landed on my feet, but at this juncture I have no idea where that might be. This next year is wide open for me.
So this chapter is closed.
The stage, predominately the basement of the central academic building. Often empty, save for a few random people (who also know where the electrical outlets are) playing video games or watching youtube. During the day the large picture windows let you see what you're missing. By night, there is no way to shift your weight to make those fixed plastic chairs comfortable. And generally, around this time the night cleaning crews arrive, and with them the cue to head home.
|My last night studying in CAB.|
A major player and ultimate ally here at the university, Raj. This man met me almost every morning and every afternoon, for a total of 3-4h a day to tutor me through the wonderful world of organic chemistry. For the last 6 weeks I've robbed him of his opportunity to sleep in, and any opportunity to eat dinner outside the bowels of the chem building. Raj--you ROCK!
And now for the best part. The last act, the celebration!
I was sitting in the students union building a few days ago when I looked up and saw Paul. A good friend and former partner in truancy, vandalism, and general adolescent skulduggery. I haven't seen him since we graduated from high school. It was strange looking at him and seeing a man's face superimposed on the image of my 17 year old version of him. As Friday was his last exam for his most recent degree and my last exam in year of pre req hell, we thought it fitting that we ring in the New Reality together. And as an added bonus, his roommate Jaison was also a friend from high school who I'd often hoped I would connect with again someday.
|So we ate, drank, and were merry!|
There really is a special connection that we carry with people who have been in our lives during the tumultuous and wondrous time which is our coming of age. I generally shudder at any thought of high school or the people that I was forced into spending it with, so it was amazing to spend an evening reacquainting a couple of dear friends who had been red balloons in a gray landscape.
So for now, I am free of the venue of med-hopeful vultures. Free to spend time with the important people in my life, time in my kitchen, and time on the trails. And for all of that, I am happy.