Sunday, August 22, 2004
Alone Again
When I opened the door to my new room for the first time, I was shocked. The room was tiny, easily smaller than some walk-in closets. There were two lofted beds on separate sides of the room, each bed attached at one end to a wardrobe. Two dressers, one small bookcase. A tiny, dinky light shining upwards instead of down. Peeled paint. A stained carpet. A ripped curtain. Dirty windows. A mislocated screen.
I wanted to turn around and drive back home. I could feel my muscles contracting, my blood pressure rising, my heart beating faster. This was a physical manifestation of how I felt the school treated me and the rest of the students here: dirty, crammed, neglected.
I climbed up the lofted bed to check out the mattress. With my head against the ceiling, I took a seat and gave it a little squish. It smelled funny, and it felt flat. The springs in it must have let out a long time ago. I couldn't help but wonder how many horny college students had gotten busy on this mattress in the past. Boing, boing. Oh well, the mattress probably won't be seeing any of that this year.
The initial shock that hit me after stepping into my new room opened a sort of pandora's box. One bad thing brought out all the rest. It was like at that point all of the bad memories I had experienced on this campus last year came rushing back at me 1000mph. I got tired, got weak, and got a little dizzy. I didn't want to unpack anymore (and my roommate hadn't arrived, so that further complicated things a bit). I didn't want to do anything.
Good thing my mom was there with me. She had reserved a hotel room for that night, so we both went back and had a good night's sleep. Good thing. That time away from campus let me digest everything and get used to the reality of going back to live there before settling down for the year.
Today we unpacked more of my stuff. We made my bed. We walked around campus and checked out the bookstore to see the books I'll be needing to buy this year. That was a big help, too. I had been losing sleep all summer about my Fall classes. I didn't like the ones I signed up for, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what else to take: everything seemed to conflict, and what if this, and what if that, and I couldn't find that magical combination. By the end of the day, I realized that maybe what I had all along was the best, and I now feel a little (lot) more comfortable with that.
My mom and I had dinner at the same restaurant where we ate our parting dinner at this exact same time last year. It was nostalgic, and comforting. Unlike last year, when I was looking into a long dark tunnel with no real grasp on what was to come, now this time I was armed with the knowledge and experience of a whole year, so this one doesn't seem as daunting.
I hugged my mom and gave her a letter I wrote to her before we left home. I watched her drive away, and felt a chill run through my body. I stood on the road for a couple more seconds after she had disappeared from sight and then I turned around and headed back to my room, alone. Maybe for a split second I wanted to cry, but I told myself I'd be OK.
Once I got into my room, I went through the contact list on my cell phone. Free calls on the weekend, and with no one around, this was the perfect time to catch up with old buddies. I called a friend whom I had been quite friendly with for the past five years. We had been playing a sort of one-sided game of phone tag for the past summer. She answered the phone, and I was excited to finally get to talk to her. But before we had a chance to delve into any conversation, she told me that the reason she has never called me back was because she had done some thinking, and thinks we shouldn't be friends anymore.
She said it was about something her Mom and Sister reading online something about my volunteer work (which they did with me), which offended them because whatever website that was made it look like I did all the work, and so they were offended. I told her that I never ever meant to hurt anyone, and that whenever I talk about my volunteer work I make a point to state that I didn't do this all alone. I'm sorry and I would like to make amends.
But as far as that friendship goes, at this point it's just 5 years flushed down the drain. Talk about a rotten feeling. Welcome back to college.
I wanted to turn around and drive back home. I could feel my muscles contracting, my blood pressure rising, my heart beating faster. This was a physical manifestation of how I felt the school treated me and the rest of the students here: dirty, crammed, neglected.
I climbed up the lofted bed to check out the mattress. With my head against the ceiling, I took a seat and gave it a little squish. It smelled funny, and it felt flat. The springs in it must have let out a long time ago. I couldn't help but wonder how many horny college students had gotten busy on this mattress in the past. Boing, boing. Oh well, the mattress probably won't be seeing any of that this year.
The initial shock that hit me after stepping into my new room opened a sort of pandora's box. One bad thing brought out all the rest. It was like at that point all of the bad memories I had experienced on this campus last year came rushing back at me 1000mph. I got tired, got weak, and got a little dizzy. I didn't want to unpack anymore (and my roommate hadn't arrived, so that further complicated things a bit). I didn't want to do anything.
Good thing my mom was there with me. She had reserved a hotel room for that night, so we both went back and had a good night's sleep. Good thing. That time away from campus let me digest everything and get used to the reality of going back to live there before settling down for the year.
Today we unpacked more of my stuff. We made my bed. We walked around campus and checked out the bookstore to see the books I'll be needing to buy this year. That was a big help, too. I had been losing sleep all summer about my Fall classes. I didn't like the ones I signed up for, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what else to take: everything seemed to conflict, and what if this, and what if that, and I couldn't find that magical combination. By the end of the day, I realized that maybe what I had all along was the best, and I now feel a little (lot) more comfortable with that.
My mom and I had dinner at the same restaurant where we ate our parting dinner at this exact same time last year. It was nostalgic, and comforting. Unlike last year, when I was looking into a long dark tunnel with no real grasp on what was to come, now this time I was armed with the knowledge and experience of a whole year, so this one doesn't seem as daunting.
I hugged my mom and gave her a letter I wrote to her before we left home. I watched her drive away, and felt a chill run through my body. I stood on the road for a couple more seconds after she had disappeared from sight and then I turned around and headed back to my room, alone. Maybe for a split second I wanted to cry, but I told myself I'd be OK.
Once I got into my room, I went through the contact list on my cell phone. Free calls on the weekend, and with no one around, this was the perfect time to catch up with old buddies. I called a friend whom I had been quite friendly with for the past five years. We had been playing a sort of one-sided game of phone tag for the past summer. She answered the phone, and I was excited to finally get to talk to her. But before we had a chance to delve into any conversation, she told me that the reason she has never called me back was because she had done some thinking, and thinks we shouldn't be friends anymore.
She said it was about something her Mom and Sister reading online something about my volunteer work (which they did with me), which offended them because whatever website that was made it look like I did all the work, and so they were offended. I told her that I never ever meant to hurt anyone, and that whenever I talk about my volunteer work I make a point to state that I didn't do this all alone. I'm sorry and I would like to make amends.
But as far as that friendship goes, at this point it's just 5 years flushed down the drain. Talk about a rotten feeling. Welcome back to college.
