It's 12:42 AM and I'm listening to Luv Deluxe on the verge of tears. Maybe I'm just digging too deep into the natural inclination I have to associate every song to its most applicable memory (late April 2010, to be precise), but more likely is my inability to shake my past from my thoughts. I don't want to move on anymore.
All summer long I spoke about how all of my past would only live on through delineations of my personality. That is not necessarily correct. These statements were directly correlated with immaturity and variables of my life that are no longer pertinent. The stupidity of my actions in the months that follows are obvious and I need not divulge on them, and if I could go back and change how things were from September on, I certainly would. I know without a doubt that my life now would be much different had I avoided the naivete of my earlier decisions. But that's not really my point. The point that I missed out on was realizing how much my past would truly play a role in my present life. It's evident from my interactions with friends, both new and old, how much the last four years shaped my life.
The thing that hits me the most is that such a small group of people managed to pull from such a vast pool of personalities, interests, backgrounds, demographics, to create the perfect environment. I go to school now with a class size seventy-five times the size of the one I graduated from less than a year ago and I have yet to make more than two connections that I have found truly meaningful. Does that mean I'm going to give up? Absolutely not. It took two years before I really started connecting with anyone at MATES, and once that point hit, it certainly clicked. I'd actually say two meaningful friendships thus far is pretty good.
I feel like the paradox of it comes with the overwhelming change in size. The big fish who was previously in the small pond who now resides in the Atlantic Ocean is likely to have some acclimation difficulties. I'm having trouble leaving my comfort zone and yet it seems that with the seemingly-infinite class size I should have no problem realizing the recyclable aspects of any communication. I hope that my experience in college continues to expand beyond what it has so far. If I managed to get everything I could have possibly wanted from forty kids, I figure the fifteen-thousand here and all the others in the surrounding area should have a couple good ones in the mix.
