It's just not another sappy love song.
Walking alone on the TCU campus on Sunday, I decided to stop in my tracks following the class picture and stand. I stood watching the kids walk by -- at the moment there are 1500 kids in the class of 2010 -- with some staring back, others walking their jive, talking their talk, in their comfort zones so soon, it's as if they never really left home.
It's such a dreamy-eyed experience. College has always been described as a sort of amazing time where you stand tall and proud with so many others doing the same; indeed, everyone is in their comfort zone.
When you're away from home, it seems like one leaves demons behind. Yeah, one will always have demons whereever one goes, but the idea that they stay at your home, stay in one's own place, it's like going to college in the end erases all that one knows . . . and creates something totally new.
But what about those of us who didn't go far? We still live with the shit we have made for ourselves, with having the problems stay at home. We find, with friends leaving, and more notably, finding out who our real friends, that a lot of people aren't going to say "Goodbye."
And it's hurt me that are those who leave without saying "Goodbye."
It's not a love song.
It's merely a song of reminiscing.
And that's, perhaps, the worst kind. With demons staying behind, you yearn to reconcile with what you have done. I haven't a comfort zone in my home right now; all I have is this blinded perception of college that isn't coming true.
