Not to be rude but, I never really liked my high school friends.

As dramatic as that may sound, it’s true, I didn’t. I jumped from group to group, searching for people that made me feel like there was something more than just the same high school, or sport, or class that kept us close. And on a couple occasions I found people that gave me hope, but even those friendships had their low points throughout the years.

The people make the place, and simply put, I was indifferent to the people, and therefore, I was indifferent to my home in Pittsburgh. It is not to say that I didn’t care for the people around me, I am very fortunate to have an amazing family. But being the youngest, by the time I was old enough to be a friend to them rather than just a little sister, they were moving on to different stages of their own lives.

That being said, deciding to go to a university 400 miles away from home was one of the easiest decisions I ever had to make. I had absolutely no idea what to expect, but that was the beauty of it. I didn’t know what experiences I was going to have, who I would meet, or even who I would become. I was excited, but more accurately, I was cautiously hopeful. I didn’t want to believe the surface level friendships I had in high school were it for me, that it would never be better than that. I couldn’t believe that.

Looking back, it was so naive of me to even entertain that thought.

It is beyond the power of words I have to express how much happiness I found this year. The indifference I once felt has been replaced by an overwhelming sense of love for the people I met at Indiana University. Every person I met this first year has effected me in some way. Whether it be the girl I laughed with over someone wearing heels to a Wednesday morning class, or the supposed best friend that betrayed me, or even the boy that I will forever avoid making eye contact with when passing through campus, I wouldn’t want to change any of it.

How could I have known that the roommate of a friend from home, the classmate of my second grade best friend, and that classmates’ roommate would be the same girls by my side, crying as I move out of my freshman year dorm and head back home for the summer? Or that the boys’ whose party I may or may not have single-handedly ruined first semester would be right there with us? Or even that the girl that my best friend from home was planning on rooming with before switching colleges and a girl I met the last round of rush who I bonded with over the pain our faces felt from forcing smiles that entire day would be there? Or especially that the boy infamously known around campus for his deep voice would be there suffering through a sickness that hospitalized him days later just to say bye to me?

The point is, these experiences lead me to find the people I will consider friends for the rest of my life, people that warm my heart just at the thought of their existence, and people that break my heart to be away from. In my opinion, that is love in it’s most real sense, when your heart actually aches to be away from the person or people.