Hi. How are you?
Glad to hear it.
Me? No, I'm fine.
Well, yeah I AM fine, I'm just thinking. Nothing's really wrong. It's just one of those days.
You see, I realized today, at some point after I had woken up, that classes started for the fall semester at Liberty University today. And for the first time in five years, I'm not there.
Okay, technically, I wasn't in classes last year. But I was there, I was in Lynchburg, and I still got to do most of the regular college stuff: hang out on the dorm, go to the dollar movies, do stupid random things, make funny videos, stay up til all hours of the morning. I even ate at the rot a few times, including one glorious, bleary-eyed morning when we shared the best breakfast in the history of the universe.
I took a walk today, a night-walk, which is, in my opinion, the best kind of walk there is. Second only to the night walks that take place with friends at your side, such as the ones I used to take earlier in the year, with the legendary William Decker-in-the-face Monthie III, and the epic Danny Strutter-Buckets Latin Smith. I miss walking amidst the orange glow of the lights of LU, wandering aimlessly around campus, talking and thinking and laughing and enjoying the night.
On this night walk I got to thinking, and a deep sadness settled over a part of my heart, the part of my heart that will always be that dude who lived on 22-3, rooms 323, 309, 315, and most memorably, 305. I realized that I may never again take such a walk across the university campus, let alone with my trusty companions. I realized I may never again hear the sound of Bill coming down the hall, never hear the rattle of door handle as he bursts into our room to declare the latest news in his often hilarious and usually frustrated life. I may never again be the victim of Danny Latin's McGuyver-esque schemes. I may never again hear the eloquent rants of Sir Ryan Trammell and be able to laugh with all of my friends in the same room.
That part of my heart can hardly take that thought...
What? Yeah, I'm fine.
I just keep wondering if that sound will always be in my head.
What sound? You know, that sound...
...The sound of the hall door of 22-3 slamming closed, echoing down the hall of my mind...
That's what I feel like.
Like a door has been shut, and will never open again.
This is perhaps the most poetic, if you will, post that you've written thus far. It strikes a chord with me, obviously, because I've been contemplating the same things for roughly a month now. I, however, will not let myself fade into oblivion without one more walk across the campus, and I sure as heck don't want to take it all by myself, so you'll have to come with me, sir. I don't care if the past is gone, there's no reason you can't relive it every once in a while, especially a past as glorious as this one.
ReplyDelete