I graduate from Texas A&M University in 25 days, 22 hours, and 31 minutes. But who's counting?
Truthfully, I couldn't even tell you if I'm excited to graduate or not. Because the idea of no longer being a student and not having to take tests is a thrilling idea. But I think I would willingly take a test every day for an indefinite amount of time if that meant I don't have to say goodbye to some of the people who are going to be rolling out in May.
The nostalgia is so, so real.
25 days, 22 hours, 21 minutes.
For some reason, it feels exponentially more difficult to resolve myself to the fact that college is ending than it was for high school. Maybe because high school was not my thing. But being with the people I was with here, in College Station, and the things I had to learn and go through just makes this weird little city seem far more significant than anything else I've ever experienced. These were my formative years. My years where I figured out how to love well, how to do laundry, how to say yes (and how to say no), how to form my own opinions, how to do confrontation well, how to change the battery of a smoke detector. How to make my walk with Christ a priority.
Now I'm sitting at work and trying not to cry.
25 days, 22 hours, 17 minutes.
What have I even done with these four years. I could categorize it by the music I listened to, the shows I watched. The things I was involved in. The clothes that I wore. The friends who came in and stayed or the ones that just passed through. The influential people. The people I didn't 100% get along with. All two of the guys I dated. The places I lived. The jobs I had. The classes I took. The struggles I faced. The themes of each semester.
It's all a blur. But when I take a minute to slow down, to breathe, to sit back, I see a small part of a picture. I am not the same Linley who walked into Krueger 415 with a thousand expectations and few life experiences. I will walk out of my little house on Fairview with a thousand experiences that form one big statement:
I will inevitably fail at most things, but the Lord is a good Father who tends to me in all situations.
25 days, 22 hours, 10 minutes.
Yes, this post is disgustingly sappy and dramatic and reflective. I promise that there is part of me that is pretty grossed out by the whole thing.
And yes, I am staying in College Station for another year. But 75% of the people I've come to know and love during my time here will not. Most are staying in Texas. One is going to New York. Another to Seattle. Still another one to India.
No one tells you how hard senior year is. How stressful. How utterly terrifying. But if the Lord chooses for the rest of my life to be half as incredible as the last 4 years were, I think I'll be okay.
25 days, 22 hours, 1 minute.
