Countdown to France: T minus 13 days

It’s my last night in College Station and I am sitting on my bed feeling sentimentally nostalgic. The room is undoubtedly the same room I have called my own for the past three years, but its feel is so completely different it is almost unrecognizable from what it was a few weeks ago. The walls are bare, the shelves are cleared, the drawers are empty, and my desk has been replaced by my brother’s. It makes it clear things are changing, my time at A&M and in College Station is ending, and even if I did stay, change would still come. I may be in the minority when I say this, but I actually like change. In fact, I look forward to and even crave it at times, but when it comes time to leave the old behind, I start doubting whether I really want things to change. I think what makes change hard is not trusting yourself to remember the memories you have made. Or at least that’s what I find hard about change, and that’s why I’ve spend my night thinking over the past three years spend in this room.

The most noticeable thing about my room is that it is green, one of my favorite colors. Sarah and I painted it sophomore year within a week of moving in. It’s a sizable room and the first I painted outside of exterior walls painted during mission trips in middle school and high school. Had I known how much effort it would take, I probably would not have been half as eager to have a green room.

Fall junior year I was blessed to share the room with my friend Kate. There was much apprehension from the rest of the house over this arrangement, and rightly so. Kate and I enjoyed different flavors of living conditions, and while the room is sizable, it perhaps isn’t large enough to accommodate the two. But things worked out for Oscar and Felix on the Odd Couple and they did for Kate and me. Sometimes life really is like it is on TV.

Throughout the three years, there have been some really great conversations in this room, but the majority of those seem to come from senior year. Between my two roommates and myself there was a lot to talk about. Change started early and unexpectedly in our lives and those talks were the support we all needed when we were having a rough time adjusting, healing, and deciding where to go from here.

It’s getting late and I’m becoming so tired I’m afraid this post will be just a jumble of thoughts. For me, writing is never a wise night-time activity because I tend to lose all reason and writing ability. So to end things, this room has its share of memories – from dance videos to late night studying, from Reggie climbing under the bed to go to sleep to panicked mornings after realizing I overslept for my final – and while I am afraid to forget some of them, as I surely will, I’m going to trust that those dearest to me will remain in tack.

Good night one last time from College Station.