After a year of indigestion from dining hall food, living in a room the size of a closet, sharing a bathroom with eight other girls and working my brain to capacities it has never reached, it’s finally time to leave campus and head home for the summer. Towson University, please, don’t make me go home.
It’s not that home is anything dreadful to look forward to. I have a loving family, friends I haven’t seen since last summer and a room and shower mostly to myself. It’s just the fact that over the past year, that place isn’t home to me anymore. It’s like an extended stay in a hotel. I can sleep in the bed, but it doesn’t belong to me.
Over the past year I’ve made new friends. New friends who won’t be just a hallway away over summer break, and with whom I won’t be able to stay up until three a.m. watching YouTube videos.
And my boyfriend won’t live across campus, but ACROSS THE STATE. That’s just cruel.
And also, there won’t be schoolwork, like those dreaded summer assignments you got in high school. Oh no, now I have to get a job, almost like I’m… an adult.
It seems like after four years of high school, where they let you free mid-June for three months of loafing in front of the tube while your parents scream at you to get some fresh air, only to send you back late August, college gives you a taste of freedom from mom and dad early September, only to yank you back mid-December, give you the freedom again, then re-yank you mid-May.
The first time I actually love and want to attend school, I can’t stay.
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