Four years. 48 months. 1,460 days.
In May of 2012, I was running crazy trying to juggle all the demands of being a senior in high school, while attempting to prepare myself for the transition that was coming, ready or not, in a few short months. In May of 2012, I didn’t know a single soul at Lipscomb. Well, technically, I knew of one person, but he was a senior baseball player whom I had seen pass by at church only a handful of times. So, basically, I’m justified in saying I knew no one.
There were nights I remember going to sleep thinking how awesome it was going to be to go to a place where no one knew me. A place where I had the freedom to be whoever I wanted to be. It was like starting completely over, but with 18 years of experience behind me.
And then there were nights I laid awake wondering just how insane I had to be to decide this was a good idea. The girl who’s nightmares consisted of being in crowds of people she didn’t know, with no one beside her. Had I lost my mind?
It took me one night at freshman orientation to realize this was going to be hard. Really hard. As an introvert, being surrounded by 2,000+ people you don’t know is uncomfortable to say the least.
But it took me less than a week to realize, as hard as some days might be, I was in for the most exciting adventure of my life. And I was about to have my world rocked with blessings.
To this day, she swears we met earlier than I remember, but that first night at orientation, I met my best friend.
Looking back, it’s funny how my first thoughts on the situation were all wrong. I met a girl from New Jersey; was cordial, because, let’s be honest, you have to jump at any chance to make a friend when you’re alone with 2,000 people; and thought that would be the end of it. We hung out at the beginning of freshman week, but I didn’t see us being friends for the long haul. A southern belle and a Jersey girl? Ain’t no way they have anything in common….
But I could not have been more wrong. And I thank God that I was. I could have never guessed the impact this girl would have on my next four years.
Four years. 48 months. 1,460 days.
Four years ago, I didn’t know Toria. And four years later, I can’t imagine life without her.
In the realm of college, four years is a significant number. Generally, it’s the amount of time it takes to achieve a degree. (That is what we came for, right?)
AKA: The end of my newest “normal.” The close of a pretty incredible phase of life.
In a few short weeks, life will look much different.
I won’t be able to run across the room and climb into my roommate’s bed after an exceptionally horrible day.
I won’t be living in a building with 200+ other girls.
I won’t be within walking distance of a Starbucks that doesn’t require real money. (Thank you, dining dollars!)
I won’t gather twice a week with 4,000 other individuals to worship and grow before lunch.
I won’t be 1.5 miles away from the only person who appreciates my snack-packing abilities. (Looking at you, Katelyn (; )
I won’t be able to make dinner plans with my best friends at 4:30 because I’m starving and can’t wait any longer.
I won’t be driving 30 minutes during finals week to iHop because pancakes are the only thing on our minds.
I won’t have my best friend across the room to run to when life hits hard.
I won’t have arms to be wrapped in on the worst days and smiles to celebrate with on the best.
I won’t be surrounded by friends who know me better than I know myself.
I won’t have an ear always ready to listen and offer advice.
I won’t have my roommate to suggest a sonic run when I’m on the verge of stress-induced tears.
I won’t have that reassuring knowledge that I won’t be late for work because someone is there to wake me up when I sleep through my alarm.
I won’t get to experience everything along side the people who have come to mean the most to me.
In a few short weeks, life will look very different. And I’m not ready.
I’m not ready to do life without my friends right beside me. I’m not ready to go our separate ways and start experiencing life without each other. I’m not ready to make new memories that they aren’t a part of. I’m not ready to say goodbye…
Four years. 48 months. 1,460 incredible days.
I’ve lived through days in the valley and months on the mountain top. I’ve had days that couldn’t seem to get any worse, and days that can hold a candle to the best days of my life. Through it all, you were there. You always knew what to say and when saying nothing at all was best. You knew when to offer a hug and when to wait for me to come to you. You knew what I would do before I ever made up my mind to do it. And sometimes, you knew what I was thinking before I could even begin to formulate words to tell you.
I’m not ready to say goodbye….so I won’t. I refuse to. Because it’s not goodbye. It’s see you later.
Life will be different, but with a friend like you, I’m ready to embrace it. I’m still not ready to leave, but in time, I know I’ll be okay.
Love you big, Tor. Thanks for being my person