I can’t say I’m seething with excitement to jump into adulthood. I am in pain, and I am happy. 

My college experience hasn’t been a traditional one. Because of AP tests and dual enrollment, I came with credit hours for a junior, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do after I graduate. I was gung-ho and ready to conserve money, study 25 hours a day, transition to law school and become the adult that I always felt I was — except none of that happened.

While I still feel very sure about law school, college has made me realize that I don’t actually have everything figured out. Shocker, I know. 

My obsession with charging through life proved itself to be intensely goofy, and my concrete plans quickly fell in on themselves like a bad game of Jenga. At first I treated college like a gross frat guy treats a random girl at Northgate and cemented an important rule: no commitment. 

Because the only commitment I was ready for was my desire to get in and get out. 

However, unsurprisingly, I caught feelings. I felt a deep sense of appreciation for people that I had never understood before. The routine I fell in love with in high school quickly dissolved, and I realized that spontaneity is the source of life. How could I just fall in love and then leave? 

I realized it was fun to race on my Veo at 11 p.m. on a Tuesday, that being an English major involved writing short stories and acting them out with my friends at Barnes and Noble and that learning for the sake of learning is one of the most fulfilling experiences that we can ever partake in. 

I realized I had a love of life that only a state of limbo such as college could give you. I had the freedom to become what I wanted while at the same time savoring the delicacies of childhood.  

It was all just happening so fast. 

What I thought would just be getting a degree transformed into me finding the greatest of friends, publishing research and newspaper articles, joining as many organizations as possible, getting piercings, finding amazing internship opportunities, love and a new sense of independence. 

And it’s all over now. 

I know I’ll move on, and I know I will continue to be happier with each year of my life because I get to experience new aspects of it. However, I don’t want to make the mistakes I made before and jump so easily into the idea of forgetting to savor. 

I want to relish the time I had this year, and I want to mourn this loss. I love Texas A&M, and it’s OK to be sad that I am leaving. Because without this sadness, I won’t understand the joy that comes with the memories for later. 

Thanks and gig’em.