"Listen to me! You live in a bubble," said my good friend Vanessa, who just graduated from college. It's nothing I haven't heard before, but she insists I don't fully understand. "You will never live so close to so many of your friends ever in your entire life. So, please appreciate it." I know what she says is true. On campus, all of my friends live within a five-minute walk, and most of them live just across the hall. As a college student, you get used to that kind of stuff. The thought doesn't often cross my mind that, at some point, I won't be able to walk down the hall, knock on my friend's door, then just kind of sit in her room and talk while she cleans up or does whatever.

If I need something, I don't have to look far. I can easily find things ranging from a stapler to someone to talk to. In contrast, Vanessa told me, "The only neighbor I know is in her 30s and the most intimate interaction we've ever had is when she asked me in passing to water her plants while she was out of town for the weekend."

It's truly hard to imagine, but when we move out of college, most of us will go our separate ways. Not only will we not live on the same campus, but there's a good chance we won't be living in the same city either. The perils of adulthood come in all shapes and sizes, and this is one that is very impactful, but not as often discussed.

It's a magical time in our lives, and like most magical things, it won't last forever. When I think back on it, I'll remember getting home and sitting on my balcony with friends who live in my hall and watching the sunset as we shout at other friends entering the building and then going back out again to celebrate the night. I'll remember going from one room full of friends to the next in search of the best game room. I'll remember taking the elevator in my socks to ask a friend a couple floors down which dress I should wear that night and later going next door to ask another friend to zip that dress up. These things are my nows, but soon they'll be my memories.