It comes in waves. Sometimes, it just washes over my feet before receding. Sometimes, it’s a tsunami, dragging me down, pulling me under.
When the water is at my feet, I see car rides. It’s 2am with the windows down as the city skyline fades into the distance. It’s getting lost and long conversations and country music turned up loud.
The water rises and I see myself sitting at a kitchen island, drinking hot tea, and talking about life in an apartment that felt so warm + comfortable. I blink and it’s 3am. I’m drunk and lying in bed laughing with my friends, it feels like a middle school sleepover. It’s a moment they definitely don’t remember but it’s seared into my brain as one of my favorite moments of college.
It rises still, faster now, as I sit on a roof. A beer and my best friends, a warm night. It’s coming home on a Tuesday night to porch parties and strawberry daiquiris. Sitting in bars with a glass of whiskey. It’s dancing in the kitchen and the creaky back stairs and the closet-sized bedroom that I loved with my whole heart.
I’m up to my neck as he smiles at me, the way he looked at me that last December night. The first time he saw me cry, he wrapped his legs around me. I felt safe. I hear him asking me what the country station is when I get in the car. I watch our friendship as the lines blur.
And then the waves crash over me, pulls me under, as I see a Woodman’s parking lot. A puzzle. A chilly morning walk. Contentment, a feeling of home. But, I also see the red flags I knew but ignored. I feel the weight of anxiety, it’s funny how someone can be the cause and calming of chaos. And I feel my heart split open, shatter. The cruelest ending that I saw coming, but not like this. I thought I was worth a response. I didn’t think he was that much of a coward.
When the waves subside, I am left with gratitude. I am lucky to have moments to miss. My life story includes a boy who made me feel everything. It includes friends to adventure with and drink tea with. It includes conversations and connections that matter, that mean something.
Nostalgia is a painful kind of magic. A reminder of the amazing, incredible story I have lived so far. But it’s also a reminder to live in the present.
I’ll be nostalgic for these present days down the road.
I wrote this because moving halfway across the country is hard and the transition into post-grad life is hard. I LOVED college, I miss the chaotic simplicity of it. Mostly, I just miss the people. But, hey, that’s why video-chatting was invented and like I said, I know I’ll miss this one day too.
Hugs,
