Two months ago my family left me outside of my dorm building for what are supposed the be the best four years of my life. Two months later, I'm already counting down the days till I graduate.

I LOVE school. I love learning, and pushing myself academically. I especially love the idea of studying what I'm passionate about, and learning where I'm supposed to be in life. Thus far, I think I'm doing that. But you know what else I'm doing, failing. A lot.

Never in my entire life have I failed four tests in a row. Shout out to you Arabic. You taught me that sometimes my best isn't good enough, and when that's the case, you have to walk away.

As of yesterday I said Wadeean and left the class, something I never ever thought I do. I am regretful that I had to do that, but at some point I had to accept that I wasn't doing well and it was effecting me. I was spending hours upon hours every night studying, I was walking into the tests literally shaking. That was not good for me, it's not good for anyone.

So, I made the hard choice (one that I made while holding back tears) to drop a class I thought I wanted, one I planned to do well in.

Besides Arabic, I have faced a lot of setbacks.

One major one is my clumsiness finally catching up to me. Just a few day ago, as I was leaving the library (studying for Arabic, of course) I fell down the steps. For those not familiar with the Paley library, there is a huge window overlooking the ground floor from the steps I was walking down. The first thing that crossed my mind as I fell was "Shit, everyone just watched me wipe out". It was not until later that evening that I realized, "Hey, I'm in a lot of pain. Maybe I should see a doctor." The next morning, I couldn't walk, but I somehow made it to the doctors where I found out that I had to be on crutches. So here I am, on crutches in the second month of college.

This week has made me feel like shit. I feel like that meme where someone is lying on the ground and "life" is kicking them from all different angles. But I remember what my mom always says "It's not a bad life, it's just a bad day".

So, when I'm sitting down and I want to give up, and go 237 miles back home, I try to remember why I'm here. I love school, and I want to make a difference in the world. Here, in one of the most diverse schools in the nation, in one of the most vibrant cities in the country, I have found a place. Even though this week sucks, and I'm ready to graduate, this is where I think I belong. And until I have a reason to believe that to be untrue, I am going to fight to stay right here.