So, it’s Homecoming weekend.
There’s a lot of stuff going around. A lot of alcohol, a lot of events, and a lot of alumni.
All of that is fine and dandy, until you realize those alums are going to be you someday.
Then the existential dread typical of any American college experience kicks in.
I’m going to be an adult one day.
Like a real adult, not just the cheap, going-through-the-motions, spending-Dartmouth’s-money-and-not-my-own imitation that I am right now.
And that terrifies me.
I don’t feel ready – I don’t feel smart, practical, prepared, or strong enough – to step over the threshold into the real world.
Right now it feels like the day I step into the world is the day I step off a cliff.
I know everyone feels that at some point, but using that reasoning as a way to make myself feel better is like saying, “Don’t worry, Raven, everyone gets horrifically stabbed in the heart some time in their life. No biggie.”
NO.
Not okay.
Very biggie.
I think in the back of my mind I know that I’ll make it, even if I have to scrape by.
I gripe about Dartmouth a lot. But it is truly one of the only shelters I have. And I’m scared to leave.
So this weekend, I’m going to have fun. I’m going to do all of my work on Sunday. I’m going to play pong with ‘12s.
I’m going to enjoy being a kid for just a little while longer.