Today was officially my last day of classes. Ever. In my life.
So naturally as I walked from class to class I tried to remember everything about it. This is the last time you’re going to make this walk….This is the last time you’re going to sit in this seat and listen to this man speak!
But as I walked back to my dorm from my last class- This is the last time you’ll make this walk after a class!- I realized, who cares? Who cares that it’s my last anything?
When we moved from the Brooklyn house, I walked the halls “one last time” to make sure I would remember EVERYTHING. This is the last time you’re going to count these stairs….This is the last time you’re going to see this wall….stand in this room…pee in this toilet! Now, seven months later, I don’t remember a single thing about those “last times.” The last time I stood in my house’s living room means NOTHING to me now. But watching my friends drop a plant on my mother’s living room rug at my 17th birthday party? I’ll always remember that.
And I’ll remember sitting out on the porch with Myles singing Broadway songs. Sleepovers in the basement making up stupid games that would give us excuses to kiss in the dark. Making out with a boyfriend while lying on the treadmill. When my mother discovered I hadn’t brushed my hair in months and decided to just cut the whole thing off.
These things….I remember. These are not last anythings. These are just memories that stay with me. And these memories in that house mean more to me than standing in the empty rooms for “the last time.”
And that’s what I realized today. That this “last” walk means….nothing. What my professors said to me today will mean…nothing to me. Just because they were my last doesn’t make them any more important. What I will remember is flipping over mattresses because the person who lived in the dorm before us had a lot of sex. Running through campus with a Batman cape. Friday night puppet shows. The first time I met Alex and the first time we kissed, two freshmen completely new at this. Scott & Eric knocking on my door at 2am to show off their new shirts. Naked people running in the hallway. Cake.
These things, I remember, and they’re not the LAST of anything. They’re just snippets of my time here. My last times mean…nothing.
So the last time I sit in this dorm room that I’m sitting in now….yeah, I’ll stand there going Oh god! My LAST time in this dorm room! Remember everything! but a month later, I won’t remember it. I’ll remember awkward first kisses with a wonderful guy, playing Let’s Dance on the Wii, snuggling close and waking up next to someone. Those are the important things.
Why even feel sad anymore?
