The name of this column is “Among Other Things” (you know, just in case you can’t see the giant word art creation about two inches below this) and I am supposed to write and comment about sports. But this time, let me live up to the column name and talk about, you guessed it — other things.
So this past week wasa big one for me. I had finals on finals on finals clouding my thoughts while I pondered how I could be halfway done with college already. I studied so much that I discovered the John Mayer Pandora station is incredible to study to and I actually walked around campus with my headphones in — something that absolutely bugs me when other people do it.
And just like that, the most hectic, antisocial week of the year was over and my sophomore year had kicked the bucket. While I still could not grasp the concept of I-am-half-over-with-my-college-career-and-just-two-years-away-from-the-real-world, everyone on campus was busy packing up and readying to go home.
My best friends for the past two years were throwing their lives into cardboard boxes, ziplock bags, giant suitcases, small carry-ons, sizeable bookbags and securing them with overmatched zippers and smelly packing tape. Rugs were being rolled up and refrigerators defrosted. Beverages had to be finished and food consumed. Furniture had to be rearranged and the floor cleaned.
And then it hit me. Goodbyes had to be said.
Goodbyes are the worst. You feel terrible when you do get them yet you feel forgotten if you do not get them. Before them, you try to make situations normal but after them, nothing will ever be the same.
Goodbyes showcase the human spirit and emotion in an instant — that instant when you let go of an embrace, exchange mundane yet memorable words, turn around, take a few
steps only to glance back one last time.
Saying goodbye to people for a week is tough. Saying goodbye to people for a month is rough. Saying goodbye to people for three months is hard. But saying goodbye to your best friends for 15 months? Consider it impossible.
Due to geography and study abroad plans, I will not
be seeing some of my closest friends for close to 15 consecutive months … and I guess I now accomplished the impossible. It was not even close to easy and I had emotional breakdowns along the way — including the imminent I-am-angry-at-the-world stage — but I did it.
And for every goodbye, there is a story. There is a water gun fight for every adios. There is a drunk bro chat for every sayonara. There is an inside joke, a smile, a laugh for every arividerchi.
Goodbyes are horrible. It is ironic, then, that the people that make them worth it are the ones you are wishing farewell to.
14 months and 30 days …
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