And now...the end is here

My tassel has offically found its lasting place on the left side of my square, cardboard cap and my gown is folded unneatly in my suitcase. The room is packed up, and all that is left with my in my dorm room is a desk, bed, and dresser, the pale white, cement walls, and Amber- still asleep and oblivious on my disassembled futon. Years ago, and as recently as weeks ago, I stared at these walls as both home and a prison cell. Now, although all the walls are bare and the room is empty, is seems to resonate memories and to be the only thing hiding my tears from the world. When my sisters told me how hard college would be to leave behind, I didn't believe them (even though I'm the world's most emotional woman). It began on my drive home from downtown last night. I realized it would be the last art walk, the last stroll down the busy streets, and the last traffic jam to get stuck in on Glenstone Avenue. I would no longer be a frequent customer to the Super Wal-Marts, and would have to do more than cross the street to rent a movie. The campus is an eerie memory as well. I gazed down the main walk and glimpsed where I called home the past four years. I wouldn't be able to jaunt across the grass to get to the fitness center, I won't have the luxury of opening my dorm room door when I want a social life, and I won't have frequenting visitors from my floor coming to tell me about their day. The experience has been phenomenal- the professors, wonderful, the academics, challenging- the tasks, daunting- the relationships, lifelong- and the memories, everlasting. So although the sky outside my small glass dorm room window is gray (which serves as a simile for my present emotions), I know that I can close my door, take one last look at the engraved silver plate, marked: "Resident Assistant," and shuffle away with a smile.....