People always try to make endings easier by saying things like, “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end” – thanks Semisonic circa 1998. There are other more historically relevant folks who have said/written similar stuff. It feels better to think about what’s ahead than what’s behind sometimes.
I’ve had a lot of endings in my life. I’ve moved out of homes, I left (read: graduated) college, I’ve ended relationships – usually it all turns out to be for the better. The inspirational crap that people say about all these new opportunities is often true. After all, we can’t experience new things if we never let go of old ones.
I’m sure there are all kinds of wonderful moments and people and places in my future, but I want to appreciate the nine-ish months I’ve had in this current life of mine. I wish I knew how to make it a great last few weeks and leave with a sense of closure and gratification, but I don’t. So I’ll just wing it and hope I do it all justice.
I may never be back in Washington, DC again. If I am back, it will be a different DC than it is now because my life here will have vanished. The women I work with will have graduated and gone away; it’s entirely possible that I may never see any of them again. My apartment, a place I love and have made my home, will belong to someone else. All my memories will be in the distant past.
This has felt so short and so long all at once. There were times I thought it would never end and, now that it is, I can’t believe how little time I’ve had.
When I started this job, I got a billion cards in the mail because I guess that’s how Sigma Kappas do things. Some were very simple, some were filled with confetti (thanks for that, by the way); some were from Sigma Kappas I knew and some were from homies I’d never met. All of them said essentially the same thing: this year will be amazing. “Duh,” I kept thinking as I got these, “I’ve been looking forward to this since the day I opened my bid, I know it will be amazing.” I didn’t get exactly what they were trying to tell me. They meant it would be really hard, just truly inanely challenging, and that there would be moments that I would think I’d been utterly defeated. They meant that it would be the craziest, most unpredictable experience of a thousand lifetimes and that the constant curveballs would be indescribably exhausting. They meant that this whole thing would be stupid rewarding and that I’d be brought to tears by my pride for the women I work with and that I’d want to punch the people who roll their eyes at me when I tell them what I do. They meant that this would the most insane and wonderful experience of my life but that I wouldn’t always be able to see that.
When it’s all said and done, I don’t blame all these veterans for just saying that my year would be “amazing” because there’s no way to say what it’s really like. And, in fact, it has been amazing.