Running Out Of It

I can literally feel the chapter in this book coming to a close. I can read the pages I have been writing for four and a half years but find myself trying to manipulate the ending– praying it’s avoidable. Judging by the number of pages left to create, I know the events to attend and the conversations to be had are limited. A month from now I will be a University of Florida graduate and that’s about as far as my little mind can realistically see into the future (post-grad plans or not).

So yes, I am terrified.

I have known it was coming and it has been the plan for my entire life, but one month out and the reality is all too sweet and bitter to handle at one time.

I am running out of a lot of things right now. Sanity is obviously the first thing on the list but time seems to be ticking away with it. My mind is at the center of this debacle. When it wanders it’s gone then my emotions take the reigns and direct my heart along with it. The renewing of my mind is not “just a wake up and do it” kind of thing. It takes time. The irony is mysterious, real and irritating.

If it takes time to process that I am running out of time (just on campus, not in life), then what happens when time is no longer the defining measurement? How do you take something constructed in time and make it last? I am tempted to get on the next Russian launch mission (R.I.P. NASA) and test the time-warp theory in Interstellar (but I seem to be running out of funds too). I am desperate for solutions but I know enjoying this time for what it is and reminiscing on these years is the only band-aid for this wound and that conversations with sweet friends and nights out are the boldest medicines. Somewhere within me believes that if I talk, think and sip slower then time will slow down and the memories I have and the friends I have made them with will linger. Am I the fool? If I am I hope to be the happy one that goes down with a fight and an Instagram pic to prove it.

So much of this anxiety and fear is rooted in the way I want to be remembered, if I am to be remembered at all. When everything changes, when the tears dry up and the scars and smiles fade I just want to be remembered, even if it’s “standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset“. Taylor Swift obviously feels the same way.  How sweet, blissful and ridiculous that is (Let’s meet at Paynes Praire at 5pm– Semi-formal attire).

When all is said and done, when the years start to simmer from the boil, what still stands? What will my legacy be? The rabbit holes in my mind are ever-winding and so-changing that an attempt to answer that question only leads to more questions and fatigue. To those who have already passed the threshold that is graduating from college, thank you for your advice. It has truly served me well.  However, I can’t handle any more “the real world is ready for you” or the “best years are yet to come” clichés. It may be true (and I hope it is) but I am stubborn and reluctant to accept that now. I am in denial. Let me grovel.

This unrest is also deeply rooted in thanksgiving. I am so thankful for the grace, love and joy woven into these years and the gift this time has truly been. The part of me not wanting to let this go is also the part wrestling with the fact that I can’t believe it was given to me in the first place.

Part of leaving a place and people you love is the fear that the person you became throughout the years together will somehow be stripped away and that that piece of yourself will be forever lost. Yes there is Facebook, texting and reunions, but this ant colony we have created among ourselves has a fingerprinted identity that can’t be replicated or duplicated. I want more of this to last than just the memories that will live in my mind. I have moved countless times before, but this time this town and these people are mine and mine to lose. My knuckles are burning from this grip, but I have few options but to start the release.

Human as I am, I quickly forget that I did come here to leave. I came here to grow. I came here to learn. I just don’t want to learn what it’s like to say goodbye and walk away.