letting the shadows go

Disclaimer: If you can't wait to leave college, this isn't for you to read. You'll just think I'm full of crap and that I'm trying to make a huge deal out of just another reality of life. You'll think I'm being too sentimental and flowery. So do me a favor and don't read this if that's you.

I am sitting here in my room typing on a keyboard that sits alone in my top drawer with some loose change. My desk is otherwise empty. My room is empty except for the crates on the floor filled with stuff ready to take home. Katrina moved out tonight and it feels so wierd to look at her corner of the room and accept the fact that she's not coming back. We've lived together for four years now and saying goodbye this time was strange. I can't say that I'll see her next fall. I hate changes.

I laid in bed last night forcing my eyes to stay open, memorizing every corner of our room before it got all packed up and before Katrina moved out, thinking if I stayed awake and memorized it, it would never leave me. I am too easily attached. Change is exciting, but only once I get over the initial shock of losing something comfortable and familiar.

I had to write down all that I was feeling because words finally came to describe it all...

I've heard it said that some are looking forward to never looking back. As I lay here thinking about these four years, I realize I seem to be looking forward to never letting go. I wrap myself around my body pillow, my "husband" I called it freshman year, and I glance around every corner of the room.

Wild light displays slide across the ceiling from cars driving by, lighting areas of the room I missed. My eyes dart back and forth, taking still frames, capturing every piece of this memory
and holding it so it cannot get away. I memorize the familiar shadows. They've been faithful to me, remaining the same all year. When I lay on my back each night and pray, my eyes converse with the forms of this room. And these forms I will not forget.

I want to lay here till sunrise and let the sun steal the shadows away from me because I am unwilling to give them up myself. And I'm afraid to sleep because I fear memories will pack up and sneak out in the dark of the night when I'm not looking.

So I lay here, holding my husband and holding everything hostage.

Katrina sleeps in the bed beneath me. As long as I lie here awake, our last night living together after four years will never end. The sun can only steal that away from me too.

I know soon I will be drifting into sleep and this final night will sneak out. And I will be alone in this room for three days and then I will say farewell to the shadows. They will change when Katrina moves out. I bid farewell to these ones tonight and I will glance down and see Katrina sleeping in the bed below and I will say bye to her too.

But all ends are new beginnings. That's what keeps us moving. We finally learn the journey was the purpose of the destination, not the other way around. We find that once we reach any real destination, we must make new plans for another one because the destination we found only ends up being a load of crap.

The journey's been great. This destination is so sad that I've decided I need to start the next journey as soon as I can. I will go to sleep now and let the shadows go home. I'm ready to start that next journey now.