Dear Rollins College,

We’ve had a few good years together and it’s been really awesome — don’t get me wrong. But it’s time for me to move on. I’ve been informed that, apparently, I have enough of those credit things to redeem one of those degree papers and wear a fancy robe while some old people watch me. That’s pretty cool (I guess).

Also, I don’t have to do any more of those 10-page papers late at night in the library while I simultaneously chug three Redbulls. Those were fun, but traumatizing experiences and I think I have enough to reminisce on at my 50th reunion. I will probably have numerous more late nights since I’m probably going to get one of those “jobs,” but I heard you actually get paid! No more thousand-dollar tuition payments, no more Ramen noodles, no more odd jobs and begging my parents for Chipotle Meixcan Grill money.

Theoretically speaking, if I manage to pull off getting a job that pays more than the minimum wage, then I could live in an apartment bigger than a shoe box and maybe even care for a dog! A real, live dog. Thanks for bringing dogs to wellness fairs and etc., but this dog could be waiting for me every time I come home. Just think of all the selfies.

I’d like to reminisce on a few things before I completely leave you for this life that might or might not just be a dream.

Remember that time I ran through the fountain and then found out it was “bad luck” and that I wouldn’t graduate? Well, look at me now, Mom!

Remember that time I went to my first college party? Yeah, the one with the creepy guy(s). Not so fun, but definitely taught me about real life dangers.

Remember that time a girl pre-gamed the freshman “Sex and Chocolate” talk and then there was no chocolate?

Remember when my professor taught me about feminism and then I became an awesome, liberal, feminist, killjoy? Good times.

And, finally, remember move-in day freshman year? That was the scariest moment of my life. Little did I know, it would be the start of the best years of my life.

Now that I’m nostalgic…I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. You’re my safety net. You’ve helped me grow and become the person I am today. You’re my safe haven and my home away from home. You introduced me to so many cool friends and mentors. What’s going to happen when I leave you?

No longer will I be able to take a study break to see a RIP show, or walk onto the docks when I need a suntan. And where else will there be so many enlightened people in one place willing to discuss climate change or heteronormativity with me at lunch?

Damn.

I’ve already committed to this adult thing. And they still haven’t perfected the time machine. So, I guess I’m going to have to go through with it.

I’m hoping we can still be friends.

It’s over.

No — no. Don’t embarrass yourself. There’s nothing you can do.

Just remember:

Sincerely,

A Senior