It was a Tuesday afternoon and I was lounging on a bench outside of Jamestown South dorm, eyes closed, soaking in the last of the afternoon sun when I realized the next week was my last week of my undergraduate life. The comprehension hit me like a plunge into cold water. I had known for quite some time that I was graduating soon. I was going through the motions: buying my cap and gown, reserving tickets for the ceremony, applying like crazy for internships and jobs through Tribe Careers. After a year and a half of work, I had turned in my honors thesis. There were tulips by the admission office and peonies in front of the Caf, and yellow buttercups turned up their happy little faces in the grass. The weather was warm.
Until this moment I had been ready to graduate. My head had been buried in my work for a while; I still had time for myself, but I had been going out less. Suddenly I become acutely aware of friends I had been neglecting, or still wanted to make, which had been something I could do “eventually” until next week abruptly became the last week of classes. My last week of classes at William & Mary. It had a strange sound to it. I pulled out my phone and swiftly set up a coffee with a friend who I hadn’t seen in far too long, and dinner with two others.
It took me a few days to recover from the shock and sadness of “I am about to graduate” and get back the excitement of it. I am enormously excited to graduate. It’s a mixed bag as big life changes often are, and I still feel a little tug at my heart when I think of leaving. And yet I know this sadness just means that I made the right decision to transfer here. Two years ago, I was uncertain and nervous about the change. I was leaving the known for the unknown. Now, two years later and about to leave for the unknown once again, I know I made the right choice.