A lot of people would say that I’m too young to know what love is. To some degree, I actually agree with that sentiment. But if there’s anything that my first year in college has taught me it’s that attachment develops and it tugs on heartstrings in the most bittersweet of ways.
After a summer of being disappointed for choosing a college I didn’t believe held as much prestige as one I’d always wanted to attend, I wasn’t thrilled when the time came to leave. Packing was difficult, it was like I was voluntarily taking my own presence away from the place I called home. The boxes and the empty rooms left me feeling nauseas and heartbroken and the the two hour trip to San Diego brought my anxiety to a new high. The first few months weren’t easy; adjusting to a different lifestyle and trying to find people I felt comfortable with was difficult. The overall process left me exhausted and determined to transfer out of the school as soon as I could. I stubbornly maintained the attitude that I wasn’t going to grow fond of anyone in college or the college itself for that matter; but it’s amazing how wrong I could be at times. Funny thing about quarter system schools, each quarter is almost like a new year (at least for me). I’ve found that each quarter brought an entirely new feel to it. Beyond just the difference in schedules or paths I took to class, how I did things, the people I hung out with, and what we did in our down time changed drastically from quarter to quarter. And just as each quarter changed my lifestyle, so did my feelings.
I was lucky enough to be paired with the best roommates a girl could ever ask for, and a great suite at that. Rarely do people get the opportunity to call their roommates or suite mates their best friends, but I certainly have that privilege. From making my bad days better and my good days even more so, these girls undoubtedly stole a part of my heart. Even luckier was I to have found another suite filled with equally charming people just two flights of stairs below. From quirky to fun and from intelligent to sweet, they truly had it all. They were all amazing individuals who had happened to dorm together and become an even greater group of friends. I’ll remember fondly the first guy in that suite I had gotten close to because I had witnessed him fall off a longboard; The guy that would stay up until seven in the morning playing games with me; the guy that seemed to always do and say all the right things; The guy that had the softest mattress I had ever laid on; the guy who acts like a big baby despite his relentless teasing and more. Who am I going to go to for tea now? Or watch chick flicks with? Or bully out of affection? They brought life into the mundane routine of classes that would have otherwise defined my days, and they’re all people I’ve come to adore.
I can say now that I had taken it for granted. I was so absorbed in living in the moment that it didn’t occur to me that things were moving so quickly. It began with meeting everyone and starting as strangers. It then transitioned to the honeymoon phase where everyone seemed to be perfect. Fights or arguments were practically nonexistent and doing things with everyone else seemed almost magical during this time. Then came hitting the “comfortable” period where suddenly I can be myself regardless of which friend I hung out with. Sure, this came with disagreements from time to time and drama that occasionally ensued but not once did we fail to persevere, and that perseverance resulted in a relationship stronger than before. My own unconventional love story had unfolded before me without me even realizing it and I can no longer deny: I had fallen in love.
During my drive home I felt more alone than ever. The passenger seat where my beloved car DJ usually occupies was empty and the backseat where my eccentric conversationalist usually sits was instead occupied by bags of clothing. I couldn’t even listen to the playlist we created during our year together without thinking about the late night drives to get sushi, pancakes, boba, KFC, or Krispy Kreme. I loved every single trip that comprised of countless U-terms due to my lack of a sense of direction and blasting music until my poor Prius shook from the bass.
I walked into a home that no longer felt familiar. Despite the luxury of a personal, clean bathroom I missed the cramped one back in the dorms where I could sing with whichever friend was in the shower right next to me. Walking down stairs to a kitchen with limited snacks couldn’t compare to walking down stairs to a market where the amount of food I could consume was only limited by my own eating potential and the amount of dining dollars I had left.
As I lay in my room with my laptop writing this, the only thing I hear is the clicking from my keyboard. No laughing because something funny on Netflix just came up and no one to look across at the top bunk at and make funny faces to. I know for a fact that parts of me are scattered everywhere right now, because the people I had undoubtedly fallen in love with during my first year in college have all taken a part of me with them when they went home.
