Memoirs of a College First Year #3

I finished my first semester of a live-on-campus type of college, managing all As except for one B in the class that bored me and I didn’t want to be in anyway. Surprise, surprise, I didn’t get a C in Spanish. *insert cheers here* I’m also currently at home for the break before Jan-term (30 days to write a book, here I come), trying to figure out if my flan is the right consistency for flipping or if it needs to be in the fridge for a bit longer, wondering how my dog manages to have the perfect ‘love me now, I’m so sad’ face, and…in general just staying up later than I should since I want to do some shopping tomorrow.

I’m not sure what I’m meaning to have come across with this other than, I guess, that I survived. I’ve yet to be challenged, though I’m sure that’ll come sooner or later, but I managed to get through with good grades at what last I checked was counted as the top 50 something or other for Forbes. It was a good thing, that much I am sure of. Even with just one semester of college having passed, I know I’ve changed at least a bit. I’m not sure how, but people have this habit of saying that I’m different. They mean it in a good way, but they can’t quite put their finger on how I’m different.

I’d like to think, in general, I’m happier. I’m off someplace I’ve wanted to be since a long while. I have good, new friends and all the inside jokes that come with it. I more or less live on my own since my roommate is barely in the room, and I like that. I prefer being on my own. I’m not in a place that makes me feel a bit depressed for a variety of reasons. I don’t even think I’ve had any semi-depressed thoughts since a long while. That last one is a revelation that makes me feel even happier. I had been used to thoughts of ‘things won’t get better’ ‘life sucks’ and there may have been a time a handful of years ago where I contemplated some things with a sort of detachment that actually worries me now that I think back on it. I know why I was in that place then, but I’m glad to be far from it now.

Side note: Never seriously contemplated anything, just idle passing thoughts. Not that that is better, but it could’ve been worse. If you seriously contemplate anything ever, talk to someone, call the suicide hotline whose number I do not have on hand presently but will look up in the morning. Cliche sounding, but, seriously, talk to someone. Your life matters to someone.

While college has been known to break some people, especially if it’s the first time leaving home and all that, I’m one of those people who has found their niche, so to speak. I’e always been someone who has been able to leave home and be okay. Chorus trips to other states. A sleepover at a friend’s in another state. Dreams of getting over to England, and then Ireland, and now Germany. I guess, on the whole, I’m happier because I’ve been able to finally, finally, stretch my wings a little bit and not think ‘God, why can’t we move yet?’ or ‘I need a job. And a car. And to get far away as possible.’ or ‘I should just give up. Would be easier.’ and other not so happy thoughts.

So I’m a bird who’s wings are getting the exercise they so desperately need, and that should keep me content until I can get onto a plane and go elsewhere. Some day. And to all those other birds who are 20-something, 30-something, or, hell, 40 plus, and haven’t been able to leave to anywhere ever: your time will come. You’ll be free to move someday, I promise.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: