When I was 17 all I could think about was leaving. Getting away from the “friends,” who weren’t my friends, the sport that gave me daily anxiety attacks, the boys who never looked at me, the four years of classes I overworked myself for. While my classmates were shedding tears over the end of high school, I only felt relief about finally leaving behind the four years that felt like they were never truly kind to me.
Now, here I am, 21 years old sitting in my off-campus apartment with two roommates who feel more like family than anyone in my hometown, counting down the days until we accept our diplomas and it’s officially over. And for the first time in my life, I wish that I didn’t have to move on, that I could stay in this moment forever.
I used to hate when people would say, “It’s over before you know it,” but I must admit they’re right. One day you’re moving into your first dorm room anxiously awaiting the arrival of three roommates you’ve only ever spoken to on FaceBook. You’re going to your first college party, which is inevitably lame because you’re a freshman and don’t know anybody here besides other freshmen. You’re hanging out with people that you likely won’t even spare a “hello” to when you see them in passing two years from now, but the memories are still ones you look back on fondly. You’re attending your first college class, still scared to get up and go to the bathroom without asking permission like you had to in high school. You’re doing anything and everything crazy with your friends because it’s the first time in your life that you feel a sense of freedom.
Then now you’re here and it happened so fast, looking for jobs that you need to have secured by August, attending your final classes as a college student, applying to graduate, and going to every party because everything suddenly has the word last attached to it. I never thought I would get so tired of hearing the word last.
Four years ago I stepped onto the Manhattan College campus as a student for the first time, and it’s hard knowing my life will make a change again in a few months. And unlike when I was 17, it’s a change I can’t fathom looking forward to. A year from now I’ll have my own classroom and teach a group of students I don’t even know yet. A year from now I’ll watch which friendships have prevailed and who I no longer talk to from college. A year from now when people ask me about school I’ll have to say “I went to Manhattan College,” and finally join the group of alumni. Eventually, I’ll find my own apartment and it won’t be with the people I’ve spent four years of my life laughing in the living room with.
So, don’t waste any time. I would do anything to be a first-year student again, sitting in my dorm room twin XL bed with people who would soon become my best friends. Join every club you can imagine, talk to anyone and everyone, go out every time you get the chance, and appreciate every second of it. Be thankful for the people you met and the memories you made. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll get into petty fights, but no matter what it will be one of the hardest goodbyes. Growing up and moving on is hard, but May means the start of a new chapter, and I can’t wait to see what’s in store for me.