Yesterday marked 100 days until graduation.
Numbers don’t lie. This means a mere 100 days seperates me from the very intimidating “real world.” Many of my fellow students are excited about that number. They’re counting down the days, willing them to go as fast as they can. I, on the other hand, nearly fainted when I realized how quickly that time is going to pass by.
I vividly remember the sense of urgency that permeated my last few months in high school. Friendships grew deeper. I began to miss that time and those people and our little hometown even though I was still with them. All the sudden it seemed necessary to experience everything I could before it was too late. Whether that was being at Kountry Kastle (don’t hate) until midnight when the crazies came out or standing around in a parking lot just to be with one another because there was nothing better to do, I wanted to be there. I wanted to sleep on my best friend’s trampoline and talk about everything under the sun: the silly stuff, the boy stuff, and the scary stuff. I wanted to go on clandestine fast food runs and quote movies with my little brother.
And I did all those things. I have fond memories of those things. I cried while my best friend was giving her valedictorian speech out of sheer love and pride for her. But there is something so much more emotional about graduating college. In high school, you have the reassurance that you will all reconvene in your hometown. You have the same landing point. I knew my best friend and I were still going to be best friends (which we are).
In college, it’s a whole different ball game. You chose these people, and they chose you. You found each other somehow during these four years and stuck together. You survived professors who you were certain intended to kill you. You listened to every unrequited love story and every giddy relationship report. You laughed yourself breathless. You cried yourself senseless. You climbed to the top of the parking structure just because you’re not supposed to. You reluctantly stepped into adulthood. And you’ve done it all together.
And even though that whole paragraph sounds like an overly sentimental marketing campaign, it’s true! The people I’ve befriended in college have been hugely instrumental in helping me grow into the person I have become since freshman year. I know God will sustain meaningful friendships. Just as my best friends from childhood are still a huge part of my life, so my best friends from college will be. But I am in no rush to have to say goodbye.
So I will take this last 100 days and leave it all on the dance floor (or on the court. or on the field. whichever metaphor you prefer). I will be a listener. I will participate in spontaneous Loft dance parties. I will eat food that is bad for me at all hours of the night if it means good conversations. I will study at Spencer’s. I will come to life with the rest of campus in the spring. I will do all the things that make for sweet memories. I will do everything like it’s the last time because it is.
“I give thanks to my God for every remembrance of you, always praying with joy for all of you in my every prayer, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now.” -Philippians 1:3-5