In exactly thirty-six days, the futon that I’m currently sitting on will be stuffed into its original IKEA box, surrounded by the contents of my 9 x 13 dorm room. The paper swans that Callie and I so diligently made last summer will be cut from their strings and will no longer look over me as I study late into the night. My growing collection of red and black pom-poms will be removed from the random holes in my bedframe. The countless name tags that my RA has hung on my door throughout the year will be in a folder with the countless other paper souvenirs of this year. In essence, my home for the past year will be no more, and I will return to the Atlanta suburbs for three months of rest and recovery.
I think I am denial that this year is going to end. My freshman year of college has been the best year of my life by far, and I have trouble believing that anything else can possibly surpass this year. Nothing could have possibly prepared me for this experience. Sure, I’d seen movies, and I’d been subject to my mom’s endless stories about the roller coaster that is college, but this year was better than anything I could have imagined. There were the occasional bouts of homesickness and moments when the stress of it all seemed overwhelming, but the new friendships that I made and the personal growth I experienced more than made up for them. I can honestly say that there is no feeling more satisfying than being thrust into a completely foreign environment and to do more than just survive, but to thrive. After this year, I know that I can survive nearly anything, and I am so thankful to the people who have helped me to thrive in this environment.
Tonight, after dining at Bolton, Andrea and I walked around the entirety of the UGA campus. Surrounded by the beauty of north campus, I realized that this year is rapidly coming to an end, and the next three years are sure to follow suit. In some ways, it feels like I just got here. Sometimes, it feels like I’ve been trekking up the Brumby Hill for years. It’s hard to imagine that less than a year ago, I was making countless pro/con lists between Alabama and UGA, and I actually had difficulty deciding between the two. Now, it seems as if there is no other school I could possibly go to. Even harder to imagine is that the people who make up my everyday life here were strangers and unknown faces a year ago. I’m happy to say that all of my high school friends remain important people in my life today, but those friendships have changed to fit the people we have become. Some friendships have grown stronger than I ever imagined, and people who were on the fringe of my life in high school have become some of my best friends. Other friendships have suffered their tribulations, but as the year comes to an end, they have all returned to their “former state of glory.”
So, in thirty-six days, when my boots are crammed into the trunk, my freshman year will be officially over, but the memories and experiences of this year will last forever. My boots are no longer in the pristine condition they once were. They bear the battle scars of downtown Athens, the water marks from the sudden floods that sweep across campus, the sand from spring break that has made its way into the stitching, the fading ash marks from bonfires, and the slow erosion of the soles from countless steps- some in the right direction and some thirty steps in the wrong direction…
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