In less than 48 hours I will have completed all of the coursework for my master's program. After a colloquium presentation a week from Tuesday I will be officially done.
I cannot believe it.
Truly...really truly I cannot.
I keep TRYING to comprehend.
I keep FAILING at this task.
A well known fact about me is I love school. So while I am happy to be done for this season, I find little joy in the fact that I have no "next beginning" planned. No looking forward to classes filled with interesting information, sometimes boredom, and always interesting people.
All week I kept thinking, "I am forcing my classmates to eat in Heritage one last time together this week. That will be my ending. That is my next step."
I realized today we already ate our last meal there, and I missed it. I did not pay attention to all the details, taking the time to snap pictures in my brain that would remain forever. Instead I am left with fragmented pieces of reminiscing and rushed eating.
Tomorrow I have an 8 page research paper due. I am going to write about feminism in higher education during the 60's/70's from the point of view of a female student. At the beginning of this quarter I was really excited to write this paper. I still am. But instead of beginning the journey I want to remain in the excitement. I want to continue to hold onto this feeling of joy in relation to homework because once I start this paper, I am sprinting the last quarter mile of this marathon. And as much as I want to reach that finish line, to feel the relief, to rest, I do not want to let go of the time put into training, the sweat, tears, accomplishment.
I am a planner. Last night I laid in bed for an hour with thoughts spinning in my head. After acknowledging I was not going to sleep I grabbed my computer and put research to those ideas--shipping cars, realizing that was too expensive, researching cars on location, researching furniture on location, reading a design book, designing my imaginary apartment.
With planning comes the undeniable terribleness of endings. Move-out dates, changing roommates, goodbyes, transitions.
I hate saying goodbye. As much as I tried to keep fragmented relationships to protect myself, I have found deep, meaningful, true, loving, caring, difficult, honest, growing, beautiful friends.
I know for this paper I am going to have to separate myself from the deeper meaning in order to print something worthy of graduate school. I have come to terms with this reality. What I have not come to terms with is the inevitable ending. I am so RESISTANT to this ending. I know it is coming. I do. But I think I'll face it like I did in undergrad: take it as it comes. I know it will be hard. People tell me to prepare. But I cannot. I cannot willingly subject myself to this. Instead I know it will force itself upon me mercilessly. Then is when I will experience the pain. But not now. Now I have a paper to write.