An Awful Lot of Life

I came home from my first day of college and did exactly what I'm doing now- blogged about it. I told you about how the traffic lights had alternated red and green one by one my entire drive to campus and back that day, and how symbolic I thought that was. I told you that I thought that was a sign of how my first year of college would go- sometimes I'd speed right through and other times I'd be stuck for a while.

I told you about how I spilled my coffee on my shirt, lost my car in the parking lot, and tripped up the stairs on my way to class not once but twice- and more than anything I told you I was excited to see what the year would hold.

By the end of tomorrow, and after my final this weekend, my freshman year of college will be over. And damn, this year saw an awful lot of life. 

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So many coffee-stained t-shirts and trips to the library for book after book. Paper after paper was written well after 10 p.m. on Sunday nights because I couldn't work a Saturday day job AND give myself more than three or four hours off without making homework wait. It saw sorority sisterhood events, venting sessions with my best friend, a Pride Prom with her because I love her shamelessly even though we got weird looks, and that one time I threw up in my ex's dorm because I'm horrible at pacing myself when it comes to pizza. 

Image credit: Alexis Landreth

But seriously, we did get the weirdest looks and didn't care. God, I love her. 

I skipped a day of class to go fight for social justice in Washington D.C., despite the fact that a Xanax was involved and I ended up asleep on the pavement. Totally worth the $140, 50+ hour bus ride and text from my best friend that read, "I wish you could've held your puke until we made it to Trump Tower."

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This year also saw my #selflovejourney at its finest, particularly as a result of more than one ugly breakup and due to my realization that YOU SHOULD LOVE YOURSELF REGARDLESS OF HOW OTHER PEOPLE WILL SOMETIMES MAKE YOU FEEL. 

That's capitalized because if I could I would physically beat it into your brain, so you wouldn't be crying and questioning your worth until 3 a.m. like I did for so many sleepless nights. 

I've learned that sometimes self-love means letting go of people who are toxic. Sometimes it means making a phone call to someone asking them to pick you up just so you don't have to be in a silent room alone. Sometimes it means getting three times the amount of espresso shots in a day or ordering double the egg rolls because it's just been a really rough couple of weeks and there's nothing egg rolls can't fix, right?

Right, I think you should ALWAYS order double the egg rolls. Even on a good day. 

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I stayed (mostly) sober my entire freshman year, for the most part because I get high on the smell of old books and drunk on the way the way the sun seems to almost melt into the ground at the end of every day. 

And the rain. 

When people ask me what my favorite color is, I give them the same answer every time. Red like sunsets and blue like rain- and they never know quite what to say. 

But that's because through everything that the year consisted of for me, I knew one thing. I knew that the sun would set every single evening despite the challenges I faced or the accomplishments I had achieved. I knew that in the moments when it was me sitting in my car watching rain pour, the world was rinsing away all the dirt and cleaning open wounds- and that was soothing. 

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This year, my freshman year of college, went far beyond writing papers, getting into trouble and struggling to get enough sleep. This year was a battle between smiles and self-help. 

Monday, April 10. 12:20 p.m. 

Text from my best friend said she was drunk. I was in the self-help section of a used bookstore.

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So the year? It was lessons. It was change, pain, triumph, terror, heartbreak, books, coffees, egg rolls, sunsets, rainstorms and learning how to live. 

It was hitting the brakes for longer than I would've liked to at red lights when the world told me I needed time to breathe, and getting right back up to full speed as soon as that light changed back to green. 

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By the time I write my end-of-sophomore-year version of this post, it's likely that I won't be sitting in my bedroom under the twinkly lights and listening to my family talk about the news. 

I'll probably be paying rent and making a few too many calls home.

Not because I miss it, but because I have to stay rooted firmly by the heart to the people and this place that have given me everything I need to grow. 

I suppose we'll see. 

Life, whatcha got? Throw it at me. 

Oh, but regardless, I LOVE this crazy mess I call my life.