Tomorrow is the beginning of the end.
The beginning of the end of my college career, that is.
Tomorrow I move back to my university after having enjoyed a fantastic winter break, which was also my last winter break ever.
My break was great, filled with holidays, friends, family, drinks, food, cats, and tons of questions about the ‘G’ word.
I avoid the topic of graduation like a vegetarian avoids meat.
Throughout the Christmas and New Years parties with relatives and friends, I couldn’t escape the ‘G’ word. It was everywhere. Behind every corner. At the drink table. In the kitchen. Waiting by the bathrooms.
“When do you graduate?”
“Are you excited to graduate?”
“What are your plans after graduation?”
My answers are always the same:
I don’t know yet.
This is not an easy subject to talk about. This is my future.
Squidward knows what I’m talking about.
Once I graduate, I’m on my own in a sense. I’ll have responsibilities I’ve never had before and a life that I’ll need to begin, starting with paying off my heavy, heavy loans.
Future. It’s so uncertain that I’m not sure how most college kids entering their final semester still manage to be confident.
Me? I can’t be indifferent about the uncertainty of the future. I’m scared.
My four-year college career will be over in just four months, and that scares me.
I’m scared that life will never be this easy.
I’m scared that I won’t find a job.
I’m scared that I’ll lose touch with the friends that I’ve made.
I’m scared that these four years of training for the ‘real world’ won’t be enough.
I guess, at the end of the day, I’m scared of change. I’m scared of my life flipping around and being faced with new problems.
People keep telling me that I’ll be fine and that I’ll do great, and, as afraid as I am of the ‘G’ word and the future that follows it, I know they’re right.
They’ve done it already, they’ve lived through it, they made it to the other side of the ‘G’ word, and they’re fine.
And, deep down, I think I’ll be fine, too.