My eyes are puffy, I cant seem to find a smile, and I feel empty inside. Its the day after ending the greatest chapter of my life. My house key has been returned, my car has been packed for the last time, and I left looking in my rear view mirror knowing I would never come back for longer than a weekend.
For the last 48 hours I have done nothing but think of every time I didn’t believe someone when they said “it goes by too fast.” Not knowing that the past four years of my life were in the end going to feel like four minutes.
St. Bonaventure, a place that creates a bond no one else can understand unless they are apart of it. A bond that is wound so tight, that when it’s time to leave it feels you are the hairy arm that a bandaid is being ripped off of. Painful, unpleasant and now you have parts of you missing.
Saying goodbye to roommates who acted as parents, enablers, therapists, best friends, nurses, and sometimes a punching bag when it is needed. Saying goodbye to the hickey that feed you, even if it didn’t seem edible at times. Saying goodbye to the Reilly Center that you screamed till you couldn’t make any more noise for a last second winning shot. Saying goodbye to the stairs up to third Plassman that seemed like hiking Mount Everest freshman year. Every goodbye is another hair on the arm being ripped off.
Now I sit in my house with boxes of memories surrounding me and a patch of no hair where the bandaid used to be on my arm. I go over every detail of every memory so that I don’t forget a single second. Thinking about a place that is what some once referred to as my “home team.” The place where no matter what, will always be home, even if I am there for only a weekend at a time