A Week Before School Starts:
Your friends are crying as they deliver tearful goodbyes. On the outside you’re reciprocating in a wet slippery mess of an expression, but on the inside, you’re as giddy as a leopard gecko on a banana leaf. You’re cackling, you’re laughing, you’re whipping your hair back and forth, and you’re clicking your heels together as you get ready to leave for good. You disengage from the watery embrace with an internal, see ya later suckers.
Move In Day:
You stand underneath a mountain of cardboard, shopping bags, and foreign, yet adult-like contraptions. You’ve been shopping and unpacking for hours while simultaneously trying to hide the pooling sweat from any handsome neighbor you might want to impress. Your mom tries to hand you another box. You scream “No more! No more!” but the cry of pain is lost into the sea of cardboard like a fish in a wildebeest herd.
First Day of Classes:
Your eyes are bulging past the limit of their sockets. Your heart is beating ferociously. It can’t be. The numbers just don’t match up. You stare at the classroom panicked. You swore it would never be you. You suck up the smidgen of self-respect you have left and walk into class late. Immediately all eyes turn to you, singling out your frail freshmen figure. All hope is lost.
First Football Game:
You return to your seat with a hand sticky from pretzel butter. You shove the whole thing into your mouth in one bite. Right now you don’t have the luxury of chewing. The second half of the game is upon you. You’re on the brink of severe dehydration but the thought of Kenny Hill’s biceps keep you from collapsing. The game is neck and neck. Just a few hours later you experience your first victory as a student. It’s life changing. Revolutionary. You return to your dorm and finish a seven page essay in a mere 40 minutes feeding off nothing but postgame adrenaline and an 11:59 deadline.
The Decline:
Before long you hit a slump. The world spins slower and the mythical TCU bubble is dangerously close to popping. The smoothies at the BLUU seem to have lost their charm, so you spend your lunch sobbing into your Chik-Fil-A nuggets. You get into your first fight with your roommate after you “accidentally” use her toothbrush to scrub some glitter out of the sink. The grade on your first college essay was barely an 87. What was once a lush field of dreams has become nothing but a tear-soaked pile of nuggets.
Return from Thanksgiving:
You come back to campus fully rejuvenated after a relaxing coach flight from California. Winter nips at your heels like a poorly trained circus goose. A rosy glow seems to have taken hold of the campus as Christmas lights are strung up. You can hear the faint sound of Josh Groban trailing you wherever you go. So far you’ve only stumbled upon one person puking in the bathroom. Things are looking up.
Everything Goes to Sh….
It’s finals week, and you sit in a pathetic heap in the middle of the library. Defeated. You thought you knew what you were getting into, but boy were you wrong. The physical tax from the constant studying has caused your organs to prematurely continue functioning. Failure looms on the horizon like a worm in a puddle. You begin to down espresso one after another until your vision is blurry. You show up to your first exam with the cognition ability of a TCU squirrel.
Free Willy:
Through the pure grace of God you survived your finals. Your suitcases wait ready to be loaded on the shuttle. You breath in the chilly counting your lucky stars for the last semester. You’ve already said your goodbyes and you eagerly await the flight home. You notice something shiny in the distance, a faint twinkling. Before you know it you’re surrounding by snowflakes. You’re lost in the scene as the bus pulls up. You gather your things and feel a twinge of sadness as you prepare for the journey home.