Friday, April 27, 2012

And... scene.

Because that's all it is.
A scene.
One part closing, but another opening right away.

I sit here in bed, soaking wet from my walk home.
I could have got in my car, waiting for me just before the halfway point, but I chose the rain.
It gave me time to think.
Time to sort.

Unfortunately, the thoughts aren't as sorted as I'd like them to be.

This whole week has been a roller coaster of thoughts and emotions.
Kind of like the weather today.
Cloudy. To warm. To a windstorm. To sunny and hot. To rainy, but still singing of spring.

In just eight hours, I will walk out of the last class of my undergraduate career.
47 classes.
120 credits.
All for a piece of paper.

A week from Saturday, I will don a flowing black gown, put a cap on, and walk across a stage.
If you'd asked me two months ago, I would feel much more sentimental and emotional about that moment.
But now, it's just all going to start over come August.
Two more years.

Deciding to stay was the easiest decision I ever made.
30 seconds, and I knew it was right.
It was an instant peace.
An overwhelming calm, suppressing the boiling stress I'd been feeling.
I don't know why.
I guess we'll find out.

And then it comes to nights like tonight.
I walked into work feeling stressed and annoyed. Frustrated.
At the end of it, I walked out, simultaneously breathing a huge sigh of relief and fighting back tears.

It's the end of an era.
The end of the four years I've known.
While a lot will stay the same next year, a lot will change.

A mouth that won't heal.
A great time at my job.
A semester at its end.
A boy I can't stop thinking about.
A summer ahead.
An end.
A beginning.
A roller coaster of a week.

In the film of my life,
This chapter, this scene
Is coming to an end.

And I can't wait for the next one to begin.

1 comment:

  1. Often times we finish a book that we could not put down and feel as if we want to read it again, and sometimes we do. Yet once we start that next book, from the first page we lose ourselves in another world, another story entirely, and while we never forget about the last one and what we learned from it, its holding presence on us leaves our minds. Now the tricky part is understanding neither book is better, neither is worse, each is perfect in that very moment we engulf ourselves in the pages and in the journey ahead. The unknown both captivates and fightens us, but the reward from turning that next page and picking up that next book is growth in a manner that the last book couldn't give us and the next one never will. It's like Master Oogway said in Kung Fu Panda, ""Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. But today is a gift, and that is why it's called the present."

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