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I might never know.

July 19, 2008

Yeah, even I’m surprised.

I was reading a conversation between two of my friends on facebook (because I’m a… stalker? or because facebook puts it right there on my homepage? or… both? you decide) and the subject matter at hand was the impending return to school. They’re jacked to be back. Not necessarily because classes will be amazing, or because the department head will decide to actually teach his students something new this year, or because they just can’t wait to continue paying inordinate amounts of money for this thing we call an education. No, they’re excited to be back and see everyone.

And when this year school year was about half way over, I lost my best friend over something stupid (we’re both at fault for it, I believe) and I couldn’t imagine that once I left after just one more semester that I’d have found anyone else worth missing.

I did.

And these two people, these people I came to love completely and with all my heart, are discussing, with each other, how excited they are to be back in the same city, the same school, the same classrooms…

And I wanted to go back.

Dude. College is supposed to be one of the best times of your life, no? I totally didn’t make that happen for myself the past few years. Freshman and sophomore year, while they started out a bit on the slow side, turned into something I can honestly look back on with a big ol’ smile. And while junior and senior had their moments, I’m looking back at a lot of wasted time, hard feelings, and missed opportunities. And I know that now that I have these two, these two amazing, incredible, wonderful people, whose groups of friends I seem to fit into well… man, could I have an amazing year. I considered staying an extra year to do my audio production and decided I couldn’t handle another year of it. I wanted to be done.

And now that I’m done, I’m regretting not staying.

You know what? I had to be in the advanced classes not because I felt I could handle them but because I wanted everyone else to look at me like I could. (I never felt that I couldn’t handle them, but I think it was more important to me to look and feel smart by being placed in them than it was to actually take those classes to go the extra step in the learning process.) And looking at this situation now, part of the problem is that, yeah, school is NOT my favorite thing. I tend to push myself too hard, really, and not hard enough, all at once, and that makes no sense but it’s true and that makes it all a very frustrating experience. But the real reason I wanted out was because I wanted to be the girl who got out in 4 years. Nobody does it anymore. I wanted to prove I could.

I did. Was it the right choice?

Ugh.

This could just be me, missing my friends. But maybe it’s not. I don’t feel ready for this yet. Maybe I never will and maybe that means I just need to get over it and move on… but maybe an extra year would have been good for me.

I might never know.

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