I felt selfish sitting in the stands at your graduation surrounded by people who we’re all so proud and happy for you. Of course, I don’t mean that I didn’t feel those emotions too, but I also felt self-absorbed. I wasn’t ready (and I’m still not) for you to not be a part of my daily routine. It never really hit me that you wouldn’t be here for me every day until that moment when I watched you receive that iconic black envelope.
I know the proverbial "I’ll always be here for you" rings true, but it won’t be the same knowing you’re not on campus. You’re not even in town. You won’t show up at the apartment late one Sunday evening from a weekend back home. You won’t be there when I need someone to get in the car with me and just drive until we are far enough out of town to forget about our problems.
We have a relationship that is easily misunderstood, impossible to explain and utterly irreplaceable. We’ve seen each other through some of our darkest days and longest nights. We’ve seen heartbreaks (that's putting it lightly), family tragedies, failed classes and stupid mistakes. But more important than the bad times are the good times. All of my most-treasured college memories have you in them. From Syllabus Week to Homecoming to Spring Break — we painted the town our own shade of red. We traveled in a pair, and that’s how people came to know us, especially me. You had already found a place of our own here, but when I arrived, you brought me into that niche. You had your sorority sisters, but still always made time for me. Hell, you even let me crash your date for White Rose.
I’ve never actually thanked you for helping me meet so many unforgettable people. When I started college as a scared little GDI freshman, you introduced me to your Greek friends. When I finally left my ex, you made sure I felt included in your friend groups, and over time, those friend groups became my own. I’m forever grateful for that because even though you are gone, I am surrounded by people who will miss your presence almost as much as I do.
Yes, I do realize you didn’t move across the country. I realize that you will be back to visit me every chance you get until it’s your turn to watch me walk across that stage. Nevertheless, it will take several frat parties and bar trips for our friends to stop asking me where you are. Because that’s how we spent the last two years — together through everything. It will take several Trivia Tuesdays and two-for-one Wednesdays to build a routine that doesn’t exist around your schedule too. I will get used to not having you there for me when I really need to talk really, but I don’t want to. I’ll eventually be able to talk myself out of skipping class. I will begin to find myself in this crazy-ass town as an independent. I’ll even manage walking to class alone (this one will be especially weird).
And I’m okay with that, but it won’t be the same without you. Because you’re my person.
