“A Lecture on Why I Have To Leave”

It’s almost midnight right now, and by the time I get this all typed up and posted it will be July 25. My lease in this old, wonderful apartment of mine runs out on the 31st, and at that point I will no longer have any form of residency in the city of Columbia.

My feelings on this are mixed to say the least.

I have lived in this town for five years, give or take a month or two here and there. In that time, this place has become my whole world, and to even think of leaving it is almost painful to me. I complain, of course, like we all do, but the truth is I love it here. I feel a connection here, like this town belongs to me, and I to it. This is the only place I’ve ever felt at home.

And yet here I am, preparing to take off, and to where exactly I don’t even really know. Where will I be in a week? Two weeks? Three? Your guess is as good as mine. I’m about to sacrifice both security and comfort for a plan that consists of a question mark. I don’t know if you could call it courage.

I’ve been trying to explain why to people. Everywhere I go, people ask me about my plans, what’s next, and when I tell them, they ask questions I can’t answer. What are you doing? Why? How? What made you decide all this? I’ve been starting to feel that perhaps I haven’t been explaining myself clearly, or that, since no one seems to understand, maybe I’m making a mistake.

But I think that the problem is, like so many other times in my life, I couldn’t explain my actions because I didn’t fully understand them myself. My own consciousness is often the greatest mystery to me. Of course I couldn’t convey the reason; I didn’t know what it was.

Then I got to thinking. It’s summer, and for me, that means a time of reflection. That’s what I do in the summer, with all my down time, while other people are having picnics or going to the beach or whatever it is that people do when the hot months come around and they’ve got time on their hands. Me, I reminisce. I replay the past over and over in my mind-- be it the past month or year or decade-- and try to understand it as best I can. This summer I’ve been thinking about college, and Columbia, and all the strange twists and turns that brought me here.

I was fortunate when I came to college. In the one truly great stroke of luck in my life, I somehow wound up in the place and with the people that would ultimately save me, more than once. By sheer chance, I found myself surrounded by exactly the right friends at exactly the right time. I can barely wrap my head around it; these people saved my life. Simple as that. And how easily I could have never met any of them. Thoughts like that can haunt you.

I was thinking about coming to college, with that strange group already half-assembled and waiting for me, and I realized how close I came, even apart from the pure luck of it all, to missing my chance to be part of it.

You see, before I came here, I had this whole life in place. By willpower or maybe just stubbornness, I’d managed to carve out a little place in the world that was mine, that existed and operated on my terms. Really, looking back, it was a remarkable act of ego. And when I had to leave that to go on with my life, it was like losing a part of myself. As if I’d woken up one morning and one of my senses was just gone. I couldn’t handle it. So I didn’t let go. I spent almost my entire first year of college basically trying to relive my last year of high school. I was so busy with my old friends, I didn’t make new ones. All around me were these amazing people, countless opportunities, and I threw them aside for a memory.

Times change, and people, too. But not that much, not really. What we think of as change is often just our noticing something that was there all along. It would be easy for me to stay here. I want to so badly; I love this place so much. But if I did that, I’d be doing the same thing I did five years ago. I’d be throwing away the opportunity for a new life just to hold on to one that was past its expiration date. I can’t allow myself to do that again. I won’t let the good life I’ve made for myself here devolve into a burden that suffocates me. This life has been one lived on my terms. It seems like the ending ought to be no different.

I’ve remarked to various people over these past few years that this, right here, this time between high school and the quote-unquote real world-- whether it’s spent on college or anything else-- is the most important time in our lives. This is when we figure things out, lay down the foundation for everything that will come later. I’ve told people that if you don’t like who you are when you’re 18, fine, plenty of time to make things right. If you don’t like who you are when you’re 24 or 25, chances are you never will. This is where it all happens. Or rather, for me at least, where it all happened.

The truth is, I’m still not sure if I like who I am. I want to, but then I remember the things I’ve said and done and... well. Anyway. I’m not sure. But I think I could learn still, either to like myself or to be the sort of person worth liking. I just can’t do it here. Too much past. Too many memories. I’ve gotten as much from this life as it has to offer.

Our understanding of time is so subjective. Five simple years seem like an eternity and an eyeblink both. I was happy here. I grew up here. I had a life here. Now, like it or not, that’s over, and I can only hurt myself by trying to hold on.

I would’ve made it last forever if I could, but forever is a made-up word. Time’s up. Next. No, you can’t ride again. Limit one per customer.

There’s a great big world out there, and I’ve hardly seen any of it. It won’t wait for me, so I’d better hurry. So much to see, so much to do.

And that’s pretty much why I have to leave.