This year's freshman class is facing a second pandemic: loneliness.
The first semester of your freshman year can always be lonely - new place, new people, new life - but this year freshman fall is lonely for an entirely different reason: a lack of newness at all
Take it from a girl stuck at home this semester, hearing tales of the collegiate experience from every high school friend she had from the suffocating comfort of her childhood bedroom, removing the culture shift does not take away from the loneliness.
Subscribe to Our Newsletter
Her heart is not yours to tame.
If your goal is to change her,
Covid-19 sucks, and so does quarantine. But five simple words has helped me protect my spirit, and maybe they'll help you too.
With the last six days from hell taking up most of my time and thoughts, finding the energy to nourish myself and my soul has been incredibly difficult. We've been forced back into quarantine due to a spike in Covid-19 cases at Providence College, information from the school is unclear, and people that I love and care about are being sent home with no indication of when I'll be able to see them again. And being stuck in the house with the same people for a long period of time can be exhausting, no matter how much you love them.
I've always been a storm.
Why is it that I still think about you? It's something that I just don't quite understand yet and may never will. Like most relationships, we had something special, something unlike any other, something dear that I held close to my heart. In some way, I'd like to think that I always will hold you close to my heart. You were mine. You were supposed to be my forever.
Endless nights of sneaking out only to cruise around town, with the windows rolled down, music blasting and the bright lights that shined so bright in the dark. I wake up and fall asleep with the thought of you lingering my mind, questioning how you're doing and your whereabouts. I still recall the taste of alcohol running down my throat as you drove down the highway with the wind rushing into your car and hitting my face. Or the times when I'd sneak out to go to Freeport with you to visit your old job site. I miss our dates of going out to eat and exploring new foods with you. I searched for an escape for months, only to encounter you. Once you left, alcohol became my escape. The burning sensation of it running down my throat is better than being reminded of your absence and the sharp pain in my chest. I looked into your eyes every time we were together, and I felt like I finally found a home. I no longer felt trapped nor did I feel like a prisoner when you were around. I trusted you enough to supervise me when I was under the influence of alcohol. But the last time we were together, I looked into your eyes again and stared down at the bottle of vodka, realizing you were never home to begin with. Your eyes were just filled with the coldness.
One will stay in your life, the other only in your heart.
One day someone will come into your life and you won't remember how you lived without them.
A look inside the mind of me, and maybe something that resides inside us all.