to be a senior

This is nothing like I’ve ever anticipated. It has no resemblance whatsoever to senior year of high school, though I don’t know why I should think it would. The mess of feelings are so entangled I’m not sure if I could even identify and make sense of half of them. Fear, uncertainty, pressure, maybe a little excitement? I wonder why I failed to see any of these when I stared at the faces of seniors three years ago. They all seemed so confident, those feelings were mine and couldn’t posssibly belong to these men and women who were so wise with experience. Yet I feel not even remotely wise, or confident for that matter.

I’m not even bothered by regrets anymore. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past three years, it’s how not to be kept awake in the dead of the night by countless of regrets. They are pernicious things and nothing will drive them away except coming to terms with them. I make mistakes, but I still have to move on with the rest of my life.

But I have not come to terms with this looming fear yet. Fear of leaving college; of the uncertainty of next step; of not successfully jumping through the next hoop; of falling behind in this invisible race against I-Don’t-Know-Who; of never being able to live the life I’ve aspired; of missing out on things that I will never have a chance to re-do. They always say everything will be okay in the end, but the beginning can nevertheless be as terrifying as ever.

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