xxiii

“Hello. Goodbye.”

-The Beatles

            This is the last time I will see you. This is the last time I will see you this month, this semester, this year. This is the last time I will be able to talk to you face-to-face, without the voodoo of the Skype devil or the pings of a private message. This is the last time I will be able to look you in the eyes and tell you that you mean something to me. And, repeat.

            Tonight was bittersweet, to say the least. Sauntering around Dallas in my father’s car to two different parties, to hug and almost cry with two different groups of friends, to say good-bye twice, it was a night of laughter and repressed sadness.

            College has creeped up on me, effectively. I have yet to order any of my matching bedsheets, or my mini-fridge, or my clothing booster-pack. But some of my friends are leaving for college this week, leaving me behind, woefully unprepared for whatever might come next.

            Forgetting about the physical, the dorm posters and the bulletin boards, I am unprepared to restart, to enkindle new friendships in a foreign environment, to place myself under the wavering trust of complete strangers. I am uncomfortable, vulnerable, but I will thrive.

            And as the camera flashes on this group of friends for probably last time this year, bathing our college color shirts with the white light in the midnight dark, I have decided that I can’t wait to do all this again.