I hope you had the time of your life

I was practising a farewell speech yesterday. I was quite extravagant with drama and emotion, because I'm quite sure I'll never actually have to use it. But it's fun to make up speeches in my head. Makes what I really feel about it quite clear. I used to think that leaving would be easy, because four years is a long time. And restlessness is in my veins, I crave for newness in the scheme of things. All the time. But the anticipation and hope for the new day isn't all there is to it. I wouldn't agree with the "you'll miss the safety and security and cushioning that college has given you" line, because I don't want all that, and wouldn't have minded one bit if I didn't have it. But I will miss the freedom, the absolute master-of-my-own-affairs life I have been given the opportunity to lead, and I'm grateful for it. I am scared of stepping into a world where nobody knows me. Won't, for a while at least. I am scared of strings. It hurts when you detach them. It hurts if they go out of tune or begin to rust. I don't want that to happen to any of mine. I have a propensity to remember good times and conveniently forget bad ones. I couldn't deny the amount of growing up I have done in the past four years. How much better I know myself than when I came. How I have seen that life isn't all about niggling over the niceties, but smiling at the bigger picture. How it isn't about whining about how things are wrong, but making them right for oneself. How it is easy to be angry, and difficult, but so rewarding, to forgive. How it is important to learn everyday. At least one new thing about the world I am in. So I can go to bed knowing I have something to carry back from this one day that will walk with me the rest of my life. Just like some memories, just like some people.