It's official. I'm moved in, situated, and said goodbye to my family. I am a college student.
So why is it that I still feel virtually nothing? Its like there's a small nagging in my tummy, but its not as mondo humongous as I'd expected. I think its going to take some time to sink in. When I start going to classes and sleep in my dorm room a few nights, I'll start to realize that I'm not going home. Not for a while anyway.
It's going to feel so backwards. I'm used to going on trips for a week or so at the time and being away from home for a while, but I know as time goes by its going to be weird not being in my own bed. Like a vacation gone wrong.
I mean, what am I going to do if I get in trouble? If I get sick? Sure, my mom bought me bandaids and hydrogen peroxide, but that doesn't replace the warm, loving touch felt when a mother applies the medicine.
My only hope is to really stay in touch with my friends that are here from home. I've already seen one of my best friends, who is also attending UNCW, and I'm going to try to meet up with the other tonight. Plus, I'm planning on getting together with another friend from home who moved to Wilmington. It's all going to be fine. I'm going to be fine.
And yet, I feel a weight pressing down harder and harder on my chest. That isn't going to get better any time soon, and I know it. Everyone has been telling me, "It will be hard, then you'll be fine, then it will be hard again." Can't we just skip to the 'it will be fine' part and freeze?
I just can't believe I'm here. I don't live with my parents. They won't feed me or help me with my homework or hold me when I cry. I'm on my own. I'm in college.
P.S. Officiality is not a word. Please do not try to use it in a school paper or in intelligent conversation. I completely made it up.
