You’re Gonna Miss This

You’re gonna miss this
You’re gonna want this back
You’re gonna wish these days hadn’t gone by so fast
These Are Some Good Times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now 
But you’re gonna miss this

I feel like it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I’ll be teaching and I’ll feel my heart contract and twist itself up in a tiny knot that pains my chest, while my eyes tear up. I’ll be hanging out with my friends and I’ll feel my breath catch in my throat, unable to speak in case breaking my silence shatters the moment and the future memory. They are all future memories.

It’s hard to imagine a life after this reality. What do I know now but the dimmed hallways of the reading wing of Northwestern or the afternoon vibes of Midtown and beach daze of South Beach? What do I know but the life of red ink stains and parent phone calls? I always knew that the process of leaving would begin. And it is a process. But I always forget just how fast it all unravels, just how quickly you go from the beginning to the end. I’d love to savor and cherish each moment. Put them in a capsule to view and feel forever, but they are fleeting. They are in the palm of my hand and gone the next second.

And as the days of May wind down and the Miami countdown goes from double digits to single digits, I wonder what it will feel like to actually physically abandon this place of home.


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