What do you do when you arrive early on Welcome Week and literally the only other soul on your floor to talk to is your RA?

You go for a walk.

You walk around campus, wearing your mask and social distancing even though there is literally not another soul around.

You put in your Air Pods, scrolling to that playlist that hits you right in the feels.

And most likely, you feel a wave of emotion.

That delayed wave of emotion that you've been expecting since March, but never truly experienced.

The feeling of despair. That everything has been ripped from you. All of your plans. All of your opportunities. Everything. You left for spring break, having plans for when you returned, only to never have them come to fruition.

You remember receiving the e-mails from the University, stating the remainder of the semester would be done remotely.

You remember the friends that you hugged, pledging to hang out more once you got back.

You remember the professors that you wished a good spring break, promising to yourself that you'd try harder when you got back.

You remember the housing staff you politely waved goodbye to on your way out to your ride, barely acknowledging the hard work that they do to keep the residence halls clean.

You remember all of these things, six months later as you walk around the campus that feels foreign to you now. Wasn't it just six months ago that you were running around with a full course load, trying to balance a job and extracurriculars in addition?

How could this have happened? I don't know.

How could the world have been completely turned upside down in just six months? I don't know.

How is that we still don't know what is happening? I don't know.

As these questions pop through your mind like fireworks, exploding unexpectantly, new questions begin to surface. These questions are accompanied by something else—fear, uncertainty, anxiety.

How long will we be here? Other college campuses are shutting down because of a rise in cases.

How am I going to survive an entire semester of online classes again? I barely passed last spring and that was with the Pass/Fail option.

Are my friends going to feel comfortable hanging out with me?

Am I comfortable hanging out with friends? Are we even going to be allowed to hang out together?

You want to do everything you're told to do.

You're going to wear your mask. You're going to social distance when possible. You're telling yourself you won't have guests in your dorm. But how is it all going to work?

There's so much that you don't know.

This walk around campus takes you across Old Main, downtown past the Corner Room, around the corner to Websters. All of your favorite places. It occurs to you this is not the place you left in March.

Why would you ever think it would be this way?

This is reality — at least, it is for now.

Eventually, the emotion is too much to handle and you realize that you're starting to cry in the middle of Sheetz. But there's no one there except for the two clerks. You grab your dinner and make your way back to your dorm, where, like everywhere else, you're alone.

This is going to be a long semester.

But you will survive. You will adjust. You will persevere. You always do. Now is no exception.