I literally cannot believe summer is almost over and I'm going to be an upperclassman! (???) And I literally cannot believe around this time last summer I was so SCARED to change my major yet again and do what I wanted to do with my whole heart. I just wanted to write. And I still do! I'm in love! So last summer I wrote a BOOK, changed my major to communication, started writing for Odyssey, and never looked back. I wanted to share here on Odyssey the poem that started my whole book. I wrote it in December after my first year at A&M about my transition to college and the honest and valid emotions that come with it. I hope this tiny little article can encourage you. To enter college fearlessly, to pursue your dreams, to change your major, to allow yourself to make choices for you. A lot can happen in twelve months. You just have to take it one paragraph at a time.

It's January and I am cold. But I believe in the sparkling magic of new beginnings. I welcome the New Year and all of the firsts and lasts that await me. I welcome the journey. I am Haley Walker.

It's February and I am in love. A boy who makes me feel as if the whole universe was strung together just to be seen by us. We are free and young and I blindly believed in everything he was. A navigator, my duet partner, the giver of every smile imperfectly crafted upon my face. I knew I was supposed to share my world with him. I never expected a universe in return. Oh to be eighteen.

It's March. It's my best friend's birthday. She is traveling around the sun again and I'm watching her do it right before me. Another year fulfilled in our venturous sunbeam of a friendship. She is growing and loving and blooming. Her sparkling eyes, deep as a canyon, constantly remind me I'm not home yet.

It's April. It's raining. I am fond of all things crisp and the spring air with its fresh blooms are no exception. Everything appears to be made new this time of year. It's senior prom. I try to match the flowers. He holds me like one.

It's May. A month of lasts. I perform for the last time. Everyone is applauding and I can only hope they are praising the stage for teaching me more than a math or science class ever could. How to win, how to lose, how to lose myself. I take my final bow, letting the last note resonate down to my bones.

It's June. Graduation is so close we can all taste it. And see it and smell it but it all doesn't feel quite real yet. We are blindly rushing towards the real world with no ounce of certainty in our fiber. We walk the stage and toss the last four years up into the air all in the form of a petite tassel.

It's July. The sun had never been brighter but my world had never been darker. The tiny golden strings holding our universe together had snapped. Blurred by my tears I watched him walk down my driveway for the last time. If only I had known his pursuit of me was simply a letter unaddressed.

It's August. I have a new home now. Along with new spirals and textbooks and pots and pans and bedsheets and bath towels and 60,000 new friends. I had heard about going to college classes before, how it's wildly different, but between all the packets I had received, none of them mentioned it's without kissing my parents goodbye after coffee, or without coming home to my little brother's schemes and laughter, who always asked me how my day was. My roommates never do.

It's September. I no longer need a map. Let me be specific. I no longer need a map of campus. I do need a map of my city, my state, my nation, my world. I have itchy feet and moving out of my house has only made it worse. I love the freedom of endless coffee cups and late nights sharing notes and secrets in the library. I did move out of my home, but just to a new one.

It's October. Grades are intense, but so is football season. We yell and yell and laugh and cheer and I can't even believe I lived without these people off of this campus for so long. The weather is getting cooler but my heart is getting warmer. We eat candy and dress up in costumes, but I had never felt more like myself.

It's November. I am nineteen now. Older, but a wanderer, not wiser. Another year of life within me, everything before me. I am whole. I am no one's. The last teenage year. How dare I even use the word last though, considering everything in my world that is just starting, beginning, becoming.

It's December. The semester is over. The year is over. We kiss it goodbye as the snow kisses us hello. The weary world rejoices in songs of sweet family, sweet gifts, and the sweetest Jesus. All of the earth is holding hands and celebrating, finally laughing enough while eating too much. Another journey has come to an end, another part of me crafted, so much so that I don't know that girl anymore. But crafting leads to masterpieces and I am fond of those, I am fond of the beginning waiting for me because after all is said and done, I am still Haley Walker and tomorrow is January.