I felt it as soon as I stepped foot on campus again. The wave of nostalgia hit me like a truck, as did the knowledge I was entering my last year at Boston University.
I’ve felt this impending doom before, as a senior in high school who was also filled with uncertainty. This time though, we’re being pushed out into the actual “real world,”. The safety net of school life will soon be replaced by bills, jobs and the inevitable question: “What’s next?”
On May 31, I will leave Boston — the city that I have loved forever. The city that has given me my funny group of funny friends and my rat companions and the only city I have ever really known. You can imagine how scary it might be to leave a place that you’ve lived in forever. So, for now, that is why I am pleading “no more strangers.” I just can’t take them anymore. I just want people that I know. I just want to be with my dad, walking through the yard on the Cape to the Front House for dinner.
I hate goodbyes. I hate the weight it represents, the sadness it carries and the message others get from it. In many cases, goodbyes are things to celebrate. Goodbyes mean we’re moving on to something greater, something better
This is my last article for the Daily Free Press, and I feel like I've said everything I've wanted to say throughout my four years. I've talked about songs I've loved, analyzed life's universal questions, given mediocre advice and more.
Most fresh graduates feel they are drowning in a sea of indecision and distress. In reality, the sea is only a pool, and all of our peers are also trying to keep their heads above water.
