semester one
In what was just only four months, I can say more has happened to me in those four months than in the past four years.
At first, I was seperated from everything that made me who I was. My family, my hometown, and all of the people here. I was seperated from normalcy, and as much as I had grown to strongly dislike that normalcy, that was a hard plug to pull. A hour felt like a year in those first few days. I felt disconnected from everything. I knew I was at Emerson for a reason — I loved it and I was meant to be there. I fought to get in for a reason. I knew I could handle myself well in social situations, but I didn’t feel like I could handle much of anything in the first few days. I had made plans to withdraw from the college and come home the day classes started. I had thrown my mother and father into an emotional tailspin by telling them I felt like I had nowhere to go but back home to “figure out my life” essentially, which would have only resulted in extreme regret and hatred for my decision to leave Emerson. I saw the kids I was friends with on Facebook all around me, but was intimidated by their capability to handle being away from home so much easier than I was. It seemed like they were all handling it much better than I was. Little did I know what I had waiting for me there, at Emerson.
In about as much of a cliché manner as one could have, I found myself being invited to a dinner table in the dinning hall on the first night by a group of kids — many of whom would continue on to spend the semester with me as my core group of friends… The January Crew. Along with the kids at the dinner table were a few others that came to be in my core group of friends. My friends were informed (not by me) of my plans to leave after the weekend, and more or less forced me to hang out with them, because they knew it would help. We set up partially filled water bottles as bowling pins and used a Curious George children’s ball to play a little game we dubbed “hallway bowling” in the otherwise abandoned 7th floor of the Little Building.
And goddamn, did it ever help.
I began to feel comfortable. We all gathered in the 7th floor common room after we grew tired of “bowling,” and talked the night away about random things, while “watching” The Princess Bride. I walked back to my room feeling so much better about everything, and not as intimidated by the big buildings that were all around me.
The next four months would be spent almost endlessly with a group of 10-12 solid, absolutely great friends. The kind I always dreamed of having. Whether we were out around exploring Boston, or sitting in the completely dark common room lit only by the glow of each one of our laptops, we were always having a good time. It was a rare moment when any one of us didn’t actually want to be around everyone else. Friends from all over the country, with all sorts of diverse backgrounds, and with all kinds of hilarious stories from their past back home.
It was only four months, but I feel like I’ve known all of them a whole lifetime longer than that.
I’ll remember the moments out in the common — both sledding in the frigid snow, and basking in the sun’s wonderfully appreciated early spring warmth.
I’ll remember the walks through the garden — with our paths lined by blooming flowers and our nights sitting on the docks watching the stars in the sky and the ducks in the pond… and sometimes our feet in there too.
I’ll remember the ventures to Quincy Market — for a different, more expensive lunch or dinner instead of a meal at the Max, the “DH,” or City Place, and to enjoy all that Boston had to offer.
I’ll remember all of our group meals in the dinning hall — from the first salad without salad dressing to the tons of ice cream cones that we filled with ice cream, “pixley” or not.
I’ll remember all of our dinner trips — from that early on Valentines day group dinner, to the early May end of the semester “family” outing to Vinny T’s for some great Italian food.
I’ll remember all of the late nights in the common room — from two to ten people in there until 3 AM or later, those are the nights filled with everything from deep discussions on who we are to absolute utter nonsense - great nonsense.
I’ll remember all the movies we watched — from the free early advanced screenings at Loews, to searching every common room for that ONE DVD player that seemed to wander around Piano Row.
I’ll remember all the laptops in the common room each playing different music.
I’ll remember the nights down at the harbor — viewing the ocean lit only by the city lights and the moon above.
I’ll remember the late night trips to NYP, because we had the strangest eating schedules ever. But it was so good.
I’ll remember the South East Asian Experience — there still aren’t any words about that one…
I’ll remember a lot of things, but mostly, I’ll remember feeling pure laughter, pure fun, pure love, pure heartbreak, and pure growing up. Lots of things have happened, and even though not every one of them was perfect, I wouldn’t change a thing. Things happen for a reason. I’m a completely different person now than I was just about 5 months ago to the day. I’m different for the better. I’m a stronger person in almost every way. I feel so much more capable of… everything. The best part of it all is, I know that I get to go back in September, just one week after I turn 20 years old, and go right back to sharing all of our free time together, going right back to all of those things I remember. We’ll officially be living together now, too… As if we essentially weren’t before…
And so now, as we all have taken our car rides and flights back home, we’re separated by miles of car rides, flights, train rides, and bus rides… but nothing more than those miles are separating us for now.
I look back at everything, and look forward to the future, and can feel nothing but incredibly lucky and happy that I have these friends and this school and that city.
That city that we would walk around and laugh at the tourists, because we got to live there.
And goddamn, did we ever live.
I miss you guys.
I’ll see you soon, January Crew.
I’ll see you soon, Boston.
matt
