I was so silly to think I wouldn't miss GW. My dear alma mater has been something of an emotional roller coaster for me, and I have spent probably 30% of my time there wishing I were elsewhere. Over the summer, when I was essentially a weeping bundle of exposed nerve endings, I pondered dropping everything and not coming back in the fall. I had had my fill of the people, the atmosphere, and this feeling that I should always be working towards things I wasn't 100% sure I wanted. After a particularly brutal semester in which I essentially lost my marbles, I returned home defeated to lick my wounds. I was in a funk to say the least. During the past year I had done so many things I wasn't proud of. I had hurt people who didn't deserve it for reasons I still am unsure of, and I had allowed myself to be hurt time and time again in the interest of preserving an unhealthy status quo. I wish it was as simple as stating that I was a victim of circumstances, but of course, I was not (as we never are). I had emotional support around me, and I rejected it. People were extending branches to me to pull me out of the river, but I decided instead to brave the falls. Bad. Call.
Upon my return home, I found myself in somewhat of a self-imposed hermitage. Though I don't think I knew it at the time, I was beginning the incredibly painful process of putting myself back together. At this time, I became so grateful for the people who still cared, and followed up with me. I remain so grateful for these tiny gestures of thoughtfulness that it floors me that I was ever so fragile. I returned to GW with a "stiff upper lip" mentality that I would just tough it out until I was able to flee abroad. Fortunately, this was not to be the case, and I was surprised time and time again at the love flowing my way from so many unexpected sources. I am so thankful for the continued and unwavering support of friends near and far.
So I will miss GW. I was silly to think that I wouldn't. I will miss the lessons that it has taught me, the people there who constantly surprise me with displays of both staggering twat-itude and shocking depth and breadth of genuine character, and of course, my sausage, egg and cheese from Ivory.
So I guess this is just kind of an ode to all the people who have touched my life over the past year, yes, even the bad touches, so to speak.I'm so grateful for everything that I have been through and the people who have scraped me off the pavement time and time again and reformed me into some semblance of a human being.
And finally, here's your shoutout, Andrew Sacks-Hoppenfeld. I love you very much and I wish you and Brant the best time while abroad. Thank you both for listening to me cry hysterically last year and for pretending not to be utterly terrified by my insanity.
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