In a little under a month, I will be graduating from high school. Two months after that, I will move into a dorm room nearly 550 miles away, in a city where no one from my school has gone before nor will anyone follow me to. Out of the 55 students in my graduating class, only three of us will be leaving the Empire State behind us as we move onto bigger and better things than the Webutuck Warriors; two of them, however, will be going to the same school in Rhode Island. Which leaves me, the sole adventurer of the class of 2016, daring to expand my horizons by leaving everything I have ever known behind in order to attend a university nearly nine hours away.
I am downright terrified.
In my fear’s defense, this sleepy town is all I have ever known. My family moved to Amenia, New York shortly before my brother was born in the mid-2000s, and before that, we lived in the hamlet of Wassaic, which is also a part of my school district. So for the last 14 years, (counting both preschool and kindergarten) I have been sitting next to the same people, listening to the same stories and participating in the traditions that are quintessentially that of Amenia and Webutuck. Pancake breakfasts, senior pranks, crazy carnivals; in a few short months I'm going to pack it all up into a cardboard box labeled “memories” and place it somewhere deep into the storage locker that is my mind for when I miss what’s in them.
Most of the time, though, I don’t brood on this. I simply don’t have the time to with the year drawing to a close. Those final exams won’t get an A on their own, after all! But it does hit me in little moments, like when everyone talks about their college choices. Most of the time the topics consist of who will be with them and it’s then that I truly begin to see just how far the distance is. I will be completely and utterly on my own, and that’s what scares me most of all. I have been around these people my entire life and now suddenly I won’t be anymore. Nobody, where I'm going, will understand the true meaning behind the phrase, “Get on the bus,” nor will they know who Benjamin or Oniontown can be found; and every time I think of this, my new reality, it feels like a sinking pit of despair and loneliness opens up within me. As a result, I can’t help but worry about what will happen if I can’t find a way at Hollins to fill this void that my old life will leave in me when it goes.
I’m so foolish to let this fear take hold of me.
It's true that things won’t ever be the same and those inside jokes will only be told again during the reunions, but this doesn’t mean that part of me will die when move-in day comes. Instead, I’d like to think of it as no different than moving a sapling into a bigger garden pot once it's grown too large for the first one. There, in the new dirt, the old roots can grow stronger. Sure, missing my old friends will hurt, but I also know already that I’ll be just as close with some of the other members of the class of 2020 as I was with my friends from Webutuck. Maybe even closer because, after all, we’re all going to be living with each other - so technically I'll never be alone. While I don't know exactly what the future will hold, I’m positive that there will always be a friendly face to talk to about missing home with and if not, then I’ll be that friendly face myself.
Now I just need to enjoy the last few weeks I have left in this tiny town and try my best not to be a wreck at graduation when it’s time to say goodbye for the last time.
