- Letters to Editor
I’ve always hated starting these things. You’d think after three years of writing for this paper, I’d have it down pat by now.
You have this elusive little spark of an idea that you hope will take you somewhere meaningful, or at the very least seem coherent when all’s said and done. You want it to be worth your time, you want it to mean something. You aim for profundity, but settle for 500 words.
But as is always the case, the discovery has to come from the journey and not the destination, so here’s to hoping I find it along the way.
I suppose college is the same way. I wanted to write something about graduating college and my time here at Eastern. I thought it might finally give me a sense of closure, however contrived it may be. And I’m desperate for closure. Because even with the big day looming less than two weeks away, it still isn’t real. Hasn’t quite hit yet.
I remember my entire senior year of high school marked with a nervous excitement and sense of resolution and satisfaction. I approach the brink of my college annihilation with an upside down stomach, a growing sense of dread, and a broken heart.
“But Adam, this is a new chapter! Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end!” shouts a choir of loved ones who don’t realize that if you’re quoting Semisonic to me, it’s probably far too late. And can you really begin without knowing where you’re going?
I guess I’ve always been a bit aimless. I’ve hopped between majors, experiences and lives over the past four years, and forced myself to operate under the belief that everything will work out in the end. And it always has, usually for the best.
Though I still don’t know what my future holds, in my very worst-case scenario, I’m still a privileged, college-educated, white man in America. As Twitter might say, #firstworldproblems.
But I’m allowed to feel something, dammit! And I feel sad. Nostalgic. Confused. Hungry (unrelated I think). And even a little lost.
I think it started when I realized its not even going to be summer anymore. I won’t be enjoying a few months respite; I’ll be starting the rest of my life. There’s no structure to fall back on, no home to return to or dorm to check back into. It’s just life now. Liberating, for sure, but also mindboggling.
This sounds like a huge bummer, but all I mean to say is college at Eastern has been a special experience. I don’t know if I can point to specific learning objectives I’ve met or skills I’ve developed (not the best thing for an Honors student to admit in print), but I’ve learned an immeasurable amount about life and myself.
I’ve had teachers and classes that forever changed the way I think. I’ve made lifelong friends who will live in my heart long after we part. My days have been filled with memories, my nights a blur of sensations. I’ve sat through lectures half asleep that I’ll never remember no matter how hard I try, and had things whispered to me on the side of the street at 3 a.m. that I’ll never forget. I found a lot of love and tried to give as much back as I could (often too much). I’ve skipped countless classes to lie in the Ravine for an hour and breathe in the summer.
That’s all I’ve got. Thanks for making my days here at Eastern a little bit brighter and worthwhile. I don’t know if it all meant anything, but it sure meant a lot to me. See you in another life, friends.