1. Expectation: My best friends and I are going to make up for lost time and we are going to make this our best summer yet.
Reality: No matter how irrevocable you claim your relationships at home to be, everything will be different when you return home from school. The external forces of time and distance—and the people and events in between—make coming back as if nothing happened, almost impossible. Individually, of course, there are relationships I've had since I was 9 that are bulletproof and steadfast and as outrageous as ever. Our groups of friends, however, as units, will never truly be what they were. Because in extreme cases, people are growing up and getting internships and living in different cities all summer. The friends that I used to do everything with -- hiking and taking drives and sitting around our kitchens, well, they're about to be seniors in college -- can't stay up all night playing beer pong and flip cup, to wake up leisurely at 11 a.m. and eat bagels. And when these friends of mine do have free time, they want to be at bars that I look 10 years too young to be at. It sucks. It's sad. But, what's more sad, is the less blatant distance between people that this year apart created; the people whose proximity is still close, but yet, they somehow still feel like strangers. No one's really even trying to figure out where we're drinking every night or whose turn it is to to drive to the beach, because, for lack of a gentler explanation, we realized that everyone doesn't like each other as much as we thought they did. You go a week without seeing the people that you call your best friends, because everyone now has school friends that they're spending time with, instead. People are working, people are taking classes, and some people are just utterly uninterested in preserving ties. There is always fun to be had and joy to be found, just not as often or in the same ways or places as before.
2. Expectation: No classes!!! I'm gonna drink every night and go to the city and live down the shore and be fun!!!!
Reality: I missed my home so much: my parents and my bed and my dog and my long car rides alone and cocktails at 5 p.m. on my deck. You spend eight months going out three or four days a week, and shamelessly crashing in random places, and living on venti coffees and prayers to get you through your classes. You get home, and you come undone. I got home and I didn't want to drink in someone's basement; I wanted to catch up on my favorite TV show with my dog sleeping uncomfortably close to my face. I didn't want to get lunch with someone I never would have gotten lunch with in high school… just to “catch up.” I wanted to boat with my parents and read and drink a beer. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy every second of when I did go out in Hoboken with my best friends or that I didn't enjoy returning to school (virtually every week) to party with school friends. It's just that going out has become much more of a question as to whether it's worth it, than an absolute given every night.
3. Expectation: I'm gonna pick out my Halloween costume and make dorm room decorations and do everything I didn't have time for at school, to get ahead!
Reality: Somehow still didn't have time over the summer, so...
4. Expectation: My parents will totally understand that no one cared what I did or where I was for eight months, so I don't expect anyone to start now.
Reality: I was almost disowned upwards of 10 times this summer for my incapability to answer my damn phone. My parents really don't ask for much. They're about as lenient as I could ask for, while still remaining aware of my existence. But, I was so used to having no one to answer to at school, that once home, I’d disappear at 6 p.m. and not return until the next day at 1 p.m. with little to no explanation. And that reaaally didn't fly. Probably just actually keep your family posted, like you promised to. And learn from me, answer your phone!!
5. Expectation: I'm going to have to divide my time between my home and school friends.
Reality: One of the best surprises of this summer was how assimilated my groups of friends—school and home—became. I basically forced all of my friends to meet (and like each other), and it worked, and that made everything I did with them so much sweeter. Sometimes you actually can have your cake and eat it too—especially when both cakes bond over their mutual knack for tantalizing you (and relishing in your anger).
6. Expectation: My relationships from school will be exactly the same all summer, and will pick back up once we’re back, stronger than ever, because that's how perfect they are.
Reality: You got that close with those people because you were with them every day and basically every night for months. They still know what your favorite song is by the Lumineers, and that for some reason you never enable your portrait orientation lock. They still know how ugly you look in the morning and how long it takes you to take a shot after the glass has been placed in your hand. But, the dynamic of your relationships are destined to change over summer, and that is okay. If they’re as wonderful as you thought they were, they’ll fall back into place come fall.
7. Expectation: I'm going to lose so much weight; people won't be able to recognize me when I get back.
Reality: Depending on who you are, probably tread very lightly. Skin and bones is nothing to be proud of. I read somewhere, "You can't be a 24-year-old who wants to look like a 17-year-old. You can't even be a 20-year-old who wants to look like a 17-year-old." That changed my life. Run everyday, eat healthily, do your sit ups, but don't do it for validation from a stupid number on a scale. Honestly, if you're ever going to indulge, do it on delicious foods while you're home -- your mom’s signature dessert, your favorite brick-oven pizza, vacation binging. If I'm going to be a buzzkill, drunk face-stuffing at TDubs usually isn't worth it.
8. Expectation: I’m going to keep my foot down, and be strong, and refuse any contact with the person who I swore I’d never talk to again: friend, ex, or relative.
Reality: You're not going to blow off the person holding all of the answers to your questions -- the person you missed so much, the person you loved for so long, the person who lives five minutes away. And that's OK, you wouldn't be human if you did. Unless you’re a masochist, in which case, keep that foot down!! That person watched you grow up; they know you like the back of their hand. They loved you through your Invisilign, your excessive eyeliner, and your obsession with Abercrombie. Contact with that person does not infer amnesty for the pain they brought to you or someone that you love. It infers an open mind and a perceptive heart. Being strong isn't about shutting out the things that scare you; it's about facing them with grace and wisdom. Growing up isn't being stubborn enough to wipe someone out of your life who has hurt you; it's being mature enough to come to terms with the fact that they might have to be in it differently now.
9. Expectation: I'm going to work and save so much money and be soooo productive.
Reality: This is circumstantial, but be kind to yourself. Work ethic is healthy; being independent is admirable; giving yourself a reason to wake up and eat breakfast and look like a person is good for you. But spending all day, every day indoors, your entire summer, is just disheartening if you’re doing it past what is necessary for your budget. Get some sun and make last minute beach trips and have movie marathons and go on adventures that make you question your sanity. Those memories are much more rewarding than extra money for vodka and that Free People top.
10. Expectation: As usual, I'm going to wish that summer could last forever.
Reality: I'm writing this article on the beach while the sun is darkening my skin and wine is waiting for me beneath my chair. Would I like for this moment to be eternal? Absolutely. Am I simultaneously texting my best friends about our decorations for our suite and our first mixer back at school? Absolutely. The truest beauty of college is that you get the most out of every moment. There is no dreaded part of the year (although everyone could do without finals)—no month that makes you cringe when you turn the pages of a calendar. When you're at school, you miss home. When you're at home, you miss school. It's the most fortunate dilemma one could possibly find themselves in. You always love where you're at, but when it's time to go back, you're ready.
So, this summer was unbelievable. I found peace in situations that I never thought would be peaceful; I filled my heart with everything I had missed so much; I spent days frying by the pool with the girls who have been my sisters since fourth grade, and nights drinking too much wine for no reason, and laughing until we (but really only one in particular) snorted. I visited Israel with my soulmate/person/best friend/big and fell madly in love with more people and places in ten days than I had in my entire life. I ran every day at my favorite nature preserve; I put 1,0000 unnecessary miles on my car; I lost myself in the best music at the best concerts. But this summer ran its course, and I'm jumping out of my skin to be back at school. I could not be more excited to be reattached at the hip with my best friends, and show up (uninvited) to their rooms to watch my shows that they hate, and rush to get ready to go out, and stress over mixer outfits, and sit in Eick for two hours longer than I spend eating, and get yelled at for NEVER actually working on the third floor of the lib. At home, I can't get back from a party at 1 a.m., show up at my best friend's door in unreasonable exercise apparel, and demand that he walk the loop with me. I am the luckiest person in the world, because I love summer, but I LOVE school. And I am dying to get back.
