It almost felt wrong to have my dad drive to London and be there, packing my bags and bags of stuff into his car. All I could think was ‘This is silly. Why are you back already? You only dropped me off yesterday with all those teary goodbyes.’ But first year is all done and dusted, and now I’ve got four months to kick back and relax (and get a summer job!!). We all know those months are going to fly though. Eight months at university sure as hell did.
I cannot fathom time right now, or the fact that I’m growing up and that soon I’m going to have to make even more, very real, adult decisions. I’ve said this already, but I seriously don’t feel nineteen. Oh sorry, nineteen and a half. I’m not one to get picky about my exact age, but the fact that the big old age of twenty is but six months away scares the living daylights out of me. I will no longer be shoved into the category of teenager. I’ll be a ‘young adult’, and then when I turn 21, it’ll change to ‘early twenties’. Yep — time, and how rapidly it seems to go by, is a scary thing and something we should probably consider more when we think about how to approach life.
As for this academic year? It has definitely had its highs and lows, but it’s still been an incredible year for me. I’ve started to learn so much more about myself, about how to live independently, about how I want to live my life. I’ve also made some incredible, lifelong friends who I’ve experienced fun and memorable times with — some small and stupid, some on a bigger scale, but all funny and exciting all the same. I was going to write that I am thankful, but down to it the reason I’m here is because of me, because of what I did, so I suppose the correct word to use is ‘proud’. I am proud of myself for getting myself here, so that I could have this chapter in my life. I hope I can continue to make myself, and those around me, proud as I continue with my degree. Maybe in two years time you’ll be reading a post about my graduation? Cross your fingers!