Reflection

It's over.

There's no time left.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

There's nothing left to say, but there is everything to say. And as I looked around yesterday at friends packing boxes, tears settled in the corner of their eyes waiting to be released, I was reminded of the inability of words. How despite spending four years of absolute togetherness, a word can't fix being torn apart. Despite sharing endless and bountiful amounts of love for one another, a sentence can't fix our broken hearts-- how no one will be able to convey the pain and longing we will forever have for each other from this day forward, always.
After packing my car to the absolute brim, turning in my key, pulling out of that parking lot with a sad attempt at a wave before riding in silence the entire way home, meditating and reflecting on the significance of this final move, my phone was flooded with texts from my soulmates feeling the exact emotions that flooded my mind:
"It's just so sad..."
"There's an emptiness in my soul. Not to sound dramatic or anything."
"I'm in my bed. Alone. And it's big. Where's my tiny bed at the house with a roomate and ALL my friends?"
"I haven't stopped crying. There is literally now a hole where something is missing."
"I can't even talk about it."
"I can't stop crying. I can't do this."
"Love y'all. No words about these four years."

We had one shot at college. We knew it the whole time-- we knew it as we stepped up from one year to the next, as we switched roommates and houses, as we started again each August . We knew it as we complained about the Mississippi heat while waving a red and blue pom pom as the crowd's Hotty Toddy rang in the background. We knew it when we slipped into our sundresses for an afternoon out or when we stayed in our pajamas all day on a Sunday, together. I have absolutely not one single regret within the last four years of our lives, because the only things that remain in my mind are the laughter, the smiles, the utmost joy that, when we could not find it within ourselves, we could seek out in each other.

I have come to terms with the fact that its over, but somehow all the sense and sensibilities I had reminded myself of in these past few weeks have momentarily escaped my mind. Our exciting futures are completely overshadowed in this moment for a longing desire for the past. Even now, the failure of words to describe my emotions and thoughts is not only disappointing but unsettling. However, I don't suffer this alone because, for the millionth time in my life, each and every single one of my girls feel the emotions that have me on my knees. Once again, I am not alone but encircled, although in distance, within an unbroken bond of sisterhood (sorry girls, it was only appropriate) that feels what I feel and sees what I see. And as I struggle to realize that our final year was our finale year, and that never again will we exist in such a network of love, I see our opportunities in the future. Despite the sadness, the tears, the longing, and the nostalgia, I encourage us all to find the excitement for the future. We have looked toward each year in anticipation for what is to come, for the memories we will make together, for the changes that will begin to mold us into adults. And now, even in this unsettling feeling, there is no reason to stop doing just that. Some of us will stay, some of us will go, some will marry and some will begin. In all of these new beginnings, there is still such reason for joy in the fact that despite distance and change, we will continue to support, network, and love all the new beginnings and opportunities for each other.

To my girls-- you have molded me into me. We have laughed, we have danced, we have walked and talked and snuggled and smiled. Without you, there would be no me. God has blessed us in such tremendous ways to place within our lives this circle of love, this family of support. Because our Ole Miss is over does not mean the end of us. We will adapt, we will deal, just like we dealt with the beeping smoke alarms at the Chi O house, the dirty floors of the yellow house, the heartaches, the bad grades, the we-had-too-much-fun-last-night nights, the construction, and Mrs. Sarah. We will change so that our friendships do not. I can't wait to watch you all become doctors and pharmacists, wives, mothers, famous, and old (but never look old, obviously).

In so many ways, we have faced what we thought was the end. The end of Martin, the end of summers, the end of relationships, the end of underclassmen, the end of college. But it wasn't a final end. Each end was a new start, just like this one.

And as usual, I can't wait to see what happens this time around with you girls.