The. Fucking. End.

Now for a bit of end-of-break wistfulness:

On the same day I received my acceptance letter to CCS, Freddy asked me if I had ever been in love, and I realized I couldn’t say yes. Though I once said it (in a high school relationship), I knew I didn’t quite mean it. And I haven’t said it to anyone else since.

Thinking about that makes me vaguely nervous and insecure; I feel like there are levels of maturity I simply can’t achieve until I’ve done the whole falling-deeply-in-love thing. I have never had to weigh a selfish wish (say, moving to a town with a population of 2500 for two years) against a serious relationship. I have never had to ask someone else whether they would be willing to follow me, or wait for me. I have never had to follow after or wait for anyone else. And though I am very grateful that I have thus far been able to make such selfish (and rewarding) decisions about my life, I am also a little sad. Because it means I’ve never had anyone in my life that I consider worthy of making a sacrifice for.

Just after Christmas, I sent off the $500 deposit check to CCS, and shortly after, I received an email assuring me that I am officially enrolled and will be part of the entering class next fall. I could barely breathe I was so excited about it. It felt, dare I say, a little like receiving a love letter.

So I guess I am grateful to all the boys out there who have chosen not to fall in love with me. It has made making the big choices easier.  That said, if anyone out there just really feels like falling in love with me…I’m not gonna stop you.