Saying Goodbye

I graduated from college in March. Four excruciating and thrilling years of trying to figure out what I'm good at, and wondering if I'm good enough. I spent most of my time there just trying to get through. Waiting for one assignment or the other to be over, waiting for the weekend, waiting for a break. It was a sad day when I realized that every time I crossed something off my to-do list, something else would take its place. Within all of the waiting, I forgot to ask myself if I was happy. If I were doing what I wanted. I still don't know.

I said goodbye to my first solo apartment, the first job I've ever loved, the city that I sometimes hated, and the friends that made it feel like home. I moved back into the room that I occupied when I was 15. It was filled with things that I had forgotten about in my time away and things that weren't mine. It was suffocating then, and a little less now that it has been exorcized by Goodwill and the sheer will of a girl who has moved a million times in the past few years. I came home thinking it was temporary. But plans changed, as they often do, and now I spend my time sleeping till noon and feeling guilty about not going outside. I feel like I've time-traveled. Like nothing around me has changed, but I have, and now I don't fit. I've made new plans that are both so exciting and terrifying that sometimes I can't sleep at night. I know that my impatience, or taking action as I like to call it, is my greatest skill. I just need to remind myself to slow down every once in a while. To think a little more about what I'm doing and if it's making me happy.

I think I like saying goodbye. It's a fantastic reminder of what's important, however gut-wrenching.