Leaving Edinboro

My life is constantly in motion. It never ceases, always pushing towards the next unachievable goal. My college career has been condensed to the max, in three short years I have earned my degree as well as experiencing life like I never have before. It is difficult sometimes to look back on these last three years and remember all that has occurred. Every day I have been here is weighted with experiences and adventures that I will never be able to recall. Of the hundreds of “worst days of my life” and “best days ever” only a select few will be remembered enough to repeat them. Not that anyone is willing or wanting to sit and listen while I ramble on about these past three captivating years. The average life of a college student is four years, at which point we then morph into adults and move on. I am still a child. I can not even visit to a bar legally yet people are going to trust me to teach their children who are only a year younger than I am? How the hell does that seem logical? It doesn’t.

I remember vividly my first day here at Edinboro University. My mother and father dropped me off rather quickly since my sister had to be 6 hours away in Ohio by that evening. In approximately 2 hours I was moved in and left on my own. I slumped in my faded grey desk chair, staring out my third story window, wondering what the hell I was suppose to do now. I must have sat there for at least an hour before my mother called me on my Verizon Razor cell phone and asked how unpacking was going. I sprung up and began unpacking, apologizing for not doing so yet. She yelled and I apologized, end of conversation.

As time moved on I started to treat my parents differently. I began to lie more to them, not for the reason of wanting to hurt them, but just to help them realize that I could solve problems without them. That I could be on my own and make decisions with my own opinion in mind. My tattoo is one of these decisions. I hold a different belief about tattoos than my family. I have an opinion that does not match theirs. I have an independent thought about it. It feels good to know now that I can think independently, I can express this, and I can do it whenever, however I want. I have been through much since that first day of freshman year, sitting bewildered in my not yet unpacked dorm room. I still sit sometimes and wonder what I should do, but it is different now. I am not sure how, it just is.

Graduation still scares the hell out of me, as I am sure it does to everyone in my position, but I feel that I can deal with it. Maybe. There is really no need for remembering or forgetting, for in about two months I will be able to condense these past three years into one sentence. I went to Edinboro University.