So I’ve left, I’m gone. And I feel happy and sad, melancholy. It was an experience that taught me a lot about where I come from and what I want to do with my life. It taught me more than anything, though, about where I stand right now as a college student. Living in an apartment for the first time, having to do a full-time job for the first time, having to feed myself, etc. The list goes on, and it’s all good and well for personal growth and what have you. But the more interesting feature is that I had planned to leave, and that I did with such little fanfare. It ends with a whimper, not a bang. I had my last day working at our farmers’ market and I said my goodbyes. They gave me balloons and a card, and left me nice messages that revealed that we hadn’t had the time to get so close or work much together.
So I said goodbye and drove myself home to a sad goodbye party amongst my classmates and friends. That as well was something rather odd. And I left it early and said goodbyes without any tears or sadness felt by anyone. And then we had our final showcase, we said our goodbyes, and moved out this past weekend. We were all too weary to be bothered to cry. But I was sad to say goodbye to my roommate, though I’ll see her in only three weeks back in Ann Arbor. What a time it’s been. And what little I have the energy to say at its close.
Just once we’ve settled in, it’s time to go.