My sister says that life is made up of firsts and lasts; usually you don't know when something is your last, but this past week, a lot of lasts happened for me. The last homework assignment I'll ever have to do, the last time I'll ever have to wake up early for a class—and, of course, the last day of school. As a person who has issues with endings, I thought this week I'd write a piece on how things are just beginning instead.
For three years, I've called these halls home. I know the map of Full Sail better than I know the map of my actual home, considering I left at eighteen to start school. The bricks of this school have seen me at my most happy, and my most sad. I've lost family members, gained knowledge, and maybe most important, I had the opportunity to make friends. These friends are people that I now travel six hours to visit; these are people that answer my FaceTime calls at 3 a.m. with a smile and a joke at the ready. I am blessed to have met them.
So after all the hoopla settles from graduating with a masters degree at 20 years old (it's not like that's a big deal or anything, right?) the reality of adulthood hits. Hard.
So, what do I do now?
I suppose there are a lot of things I could do, but mostly I don't see myself slowing down or stopping. I plan on making a cross-country move to Los Angeles by the end of the summer; maybe I'll make a short film or two with some friends, and hopefully I'll find a job in my industry.
This is where beginnings come in. With all the focus I had on my academics, I put actually living on the back-burner. I rarely had time to do the things I wanted, you know? I want to travel the world, and forge meaningful relationships with people. I want to make a difference.
Endings are inevitable, I think, but this ending is only the beginning for me.