For a while now, I've been living my life independently. I wake up every morning, take a quick shower, grab coffee and make my way to campus. 9 A.M drop-in hours, 11 brunch, 12 P.M work/class, 6 P.M dinner, 8 P.M library, 2 A.M sleep. After a few weeks of this monotonous routine, I realized not only how much I hate repetition, but how much I hate being alone. I didn't live my life independently; I lived it reclusively.
I don't reflect much about my day because I get caught up in whatever task is ready to be deleted off of my mac stickies. It’s not until I curl up in my bed and stare into the ceiling when I start to really think about the time I spent not only being alone, but feeling alone. Sure, I interact with multiple people throughout my daily schedule; I exchange brief conversations with teachers, coworkers, the girl working her morning shift at the coffee cart or the woman swiping my access card at Carillo. At the end of the day, I kick off my shoes and rest my bag, only to find myself in a place that lacks solace that my distraught heart yearns for.
These past few months have been hard for me. Trying to get into my major has not only taken toll on my physical well-being, but has altered my entire lifestyle. The worst part isn't the fact that I spend half the time murmuring the substitution and income effects for different demand functions or only being able to afford shitty coffee and warm half n half to get me through normal waking hours; it's the fact that I have to miss out on everything else that makes me love my life.
I miss being in my apartment. I miss watching movies with my housemates, exchanging laughs while making meals and playing our favorite songs on the speakers. I miss eating with my friends. I miss seeing what everyone was up to, knowing how their day went, letting them know was going on with me and end up either laughing or crying about it. I crave to hear about the bike accident they got into, the teacher that screwed them over on their last midterm and share in the excitement of a recently announced music festival line up, digesting every ounce of their thoughts to satisfy my starvation for social interaction. I’ll choose cracked, off-white walls, wine-stained carpets and sticky counter tops over the 8th floor of Davidson any day if it meant being with the people who remind me why I love being a college student. Instead, I can’t help but feel like people think I’ve grown distant.
Chasing a dream is a difficult, lonely endeavor. No one truly understands the journey that you embark. Although one might attest to your struggle by comparing it to their own, they will never understand the emotional impacts that affect you individually. Most days I want to stop what I’m doing and return to the life before I had ever embarked on my journey. I wish I can figure out how to balance my life so that I can have the energy and positivity to be around by the people I love, all while making sure that my own personal goals are being catered to. In the meantime, I hope that everything works out so that I know all of the friendships that end up floating away from me was worth losing.