There is normally a wide line between senioritis and mourning the end of college, but somehow I have turned that wide line into a minuscule one that is very easy to cross. This week was my last first week of class, and like many other seniors, I'm feeling conflicted about it. In the last 72 hours, I have flipped back and forth from being tired of college to wishing it would never end. The smallest thing, such as having to reply to a discussion question, can start my longing for the day I walk across the stage and grab that blank diploma. Then I get a text from a friend asking me to go get Chick-fil-a at midnight, and I'm back to wishing I could stay a college senior forever.

Senior year is a messy and confusing time. On one hand, you're about to be thrown out into the workforce with what feels like no preparation. That's pretty terrifying if I'm being honest. But on the other hand, you are living with the most freedom you've had in your whole life. You're experiencing a very unique part of adulthood, the part where you're allowed to make real steps towards the life you want to have in the future. Mistakes during this time are a bummer, but they only serve to help you learn and grow into the person you're meant to be. "Do I want to stay or do I want to leave?" is a question I can't decide the answer to.

On one single walk to the Student Union, I switched between senioritis and nostalgia at least six times. After twenty steps, I was annoyed with living in a dorm and having to walk twenty minutes simply to eat. A second later I walked by a group of students having a spontaneous worship night, and I didn't care that there was no room to cook food. I wanted to stay in this incredible Christ-centered community for as long as possible. On and on it went, until I finally reached the Union. Nearly every walk I take around campus ends up like this, a never-ending cycle between wanting to remain and wanting to be done.

I'm slowly realizing that life will never be the way it is right now, ever again. After this year, my friends aren't going to live a five-minute walk away, I'm not going to have summers off, and I can't eat every meal at Qdoba forever. Once you're done with college you're expected to know what you're doing, or at least pretend like you do. "Adulthood" has never felt so close or so daunting.

I'm sad to leave, but glad that I want to stay. My senior year of high school, I was beyond scared to move on from my high school world. I thought college could never live up to my four years at my small high school, and I was right. My time at Grand Canyon University has so far surpassed what I've ever experienced, it still shocks me. Whenever I get sad about graduating, leaving, and moving on, I'm uplifted because I never thought I would love college as much as I do.

Don't get me wrong: I'm thrilled to never have to submit an assignment to Turnitin again, ecstatic about no more tuition payments, anxious to get started in my dream job and excited to begin the rest of my life. But for now, I'm trying to live completely and fully in the moment. My life will never be like it is now, and though that's a good thing, I want to enjoy it while it lasts.