So today begins May, and the near end of my college career. I officially handed in my Senior Thesis on the 27th, and I am fully in the clear. The department celebrated our success with champagne and a cake that read “This is a metaphor.” Oh ho ho, those English professors. They’re clever, aren’t they?
My adviser was so happy to see me, and I, likewise. I was not happy to see one particular professor, but I mustered up the courage to say hello to her anyway, especially since she was the one handing out the cake. She uttered quite possibly the phoniest, drawn out “hi” I’d ever heard in my life, but I took my plate and kept on stepping. I was not about to let her ruin my celebration, even though I was guilt tripping myself in the back of my mind thinking that this thesis was not my best work. But that’s all behind me now.
I spoke with the other seniors, especially one who was my neighbor in the time I spent on campus last semester. She actually said she missed me. We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, so I was glad to hear that. We talked a bit about our lives, and went our separate ways, drunken seniors droning on melodiously behind us. Then, I ran into an old friend at the bus stop, and the world got a little smaller as the girl sitting behind me on the van said she’d attended the same high school.
It’s weird how just as the world is opening up as graduation closes in, it is also shrinking. I guess it’s a little like breathing. Each breath, bringing you closer to death, and life, at the same time. Your lungs expand as your capacity for air shrinks. You exhale, and the reverse occurs. Yeah, life has always been funny that way. I know a lot of people look on graduation with as much heaviness in their hearts as they have happiness, and pride, but given my circumstances, I feel like I am just holding my breath, waiting for the chance to take in that first day of the rest of my life. Only this time, I will breathe in the fresh, clean, sweetly fragrant air that is success.