Once Upon a Time: True Stories of an Aspiring Writer

29: The First Job Divergence

 Graduation came and went.

I'd considered the implications of leaving for a while. For one, I'd never be in my house again, where I lived senior year.

 I always grew attached to my dorm rooms, but I especially loved living in this particular yellow house down the road. It was old, but charming on the inside, and I loved the cozy little room that I'd done up with magazine covers. Two small windows gave me a lovely view of...well, the roof mainly, but still lit it up pretty well. And the closet was massive. I could have made a fort. (Hey, where was that idea until just now?) I watched The Big Bang Theory and Wheel of Fortune there. I studied for tests there and cried over crushes there. I spent tons of time browsing SBM there. And it had a wonderful wraparound porch. I could sit there, overlooking the street and the health sciences building, watching the world go by. 

Now, those double doors that were once so friendly would be cold and imposing rather than welcoming if I were to appear there ever again...which I wouldn't, because why would I be on the porch again? The reality really hit the night before I left to go home after my last final. The walls were bare of the Seventeen magazine covers I'd wallpapered them with, which only seemed like a month ago. It was actually already nine months since move-in day, when I was acting pissy with my family who constantly fussed over where to put things and where we could go to buy a table, BECAUSE I JUST WANTED TO BE DONE AND GET OUT AND FIND TIM, GOLLY DERNIT. The room now had no personality. It was no longer mine even though I was about to sleep there.

I wanted to get the leaving part over with!

Obviously, I had to keep my schedule if I didn't want to go crazy. I watched my nightly episode of The Office before bed, as usual. It ended up being the Michael Scott farewell episode. When the cast gathered to sing their version of "525,600 Minutes," I felt like we were all saying goodbye. I'd still watch The Office, but it wouldn't be the same as watching it in a dorm before classes the next day as part of the "college routine." Sigh. It just wasn't going to be a happy evening, because I also had to spend the last night of college taping up my wall. It had literally decided to start peeling off on my very last night until the plaster almost hit the floor despite showing no signs of damage all year...bye bye, security deposit! Fortunately, that night I learned that duct tape can fix everything.

Adult life wouldn't be nearly as much fun either. No more stepping outside into life happening...cute basketball players on the outdoor courts, nearly getting pelted with footballs and Frisbees, locals walking their dogs around campus, sitting on the lawn on my beach towel doing word searches, the list goes on. There would also be no more buttered potatoes in the dining hall, field hockey games to attend, or crushes to see around campus at random moments coming out of their classes. 

I dreaded that part of life. I'd missed Ben for five years and life without an in-person crush just wasn't as much fun. Now, I was facing the same story with Tim. Would I ever see him again? Was I just about to enter another five years of lost-love-induced torture? My stomach twisted.

That thought crossed my mind a lot, but I didn't feel like thinking about it. Emotional exhaustion, perhaps. Thankfully, because he'd accepted my friend request, we'd at least stay in touch, and I'd eventually get up the courage to message him. I strangely was not worried.

Then I went home for a week. As I slowly closed the door on my room, I took a mental snapshot of the beloved place I'd never see again. I'm not going to lie: that was one of the hardest parts of leaving. 

Two weeks later, I got emotional at soon as the Irish drummers and bagpipers started to play and we started marching into the gym. I barely kept it together as we marched toward our seats in front of the stage and started tearing up. Oh, no. What if I cried...no, what if the tears in my eyes actually started falling? I was in the front row for Pete's sake. I came very close to crying that day, and it was the most terrible five minutes of terror. That in addition to hoping my cap wouldn't fall off--it was suspiciously loose. I did nearly in my heels---yes, I was almost that person. My feet were so small that I easily wore the shoes that I wore for my middle school graduation, still in great shape. It was almost a mistake!