It is strange how a summer can feel so long but as soon as the moment comes, the moment for one to leave, time seems to have become so short. Perhaps it is the same feeling older people have when they reach 60 years of age and look back at what appears to have been a brief life. Only then for them to look forward and witness a period of time less than what they have lived.
If you were to look past the mere incomparable few months I have stayed at home you would find a pit of worry at my very centre. It is difficult to explain why the knot in my stomach exists. I am only going back to Cheltenham, back to University, but most importantly back to good friends. So why should I worry? Like most emotion the feeling can be utterly irrational, no more rational to why I desire to inhale carcinogenic smoke into my lungs.
Roughly this time last year I was just starting University. I remember feeling nervous, excited but sad all at the same time during the car journey up. Walking through the main doors of my campus, maintaining my true self but attempting to hide the shakes as I received my room key. Campus rooms look destitute without any decoration, any laughter in the corridor but in that room I learnt so many life lessons. How to live with oneself, deal with loneliness which I had never felt before.
I can’t deny that the beginning of my University life started from nervous foundations. Most students have a handful of horror stories but also an overflow of joy which require too many fingers to count. We are so lucky in this generation to have the opportunity to go to University. To live within a community who fully understand the values of wisdom, intelligence, logic but most importantly, creativity and emotion.
So whilst apprehensions partially cloud my longing desire to return back to Cheltenham all I can do is continue packing. Watch as my room becomes bare, boxes become full and the car becomes loaded. I’ll admit that some of the items being packed serve no real purpose other than sentimental value. Items which have decorated my room at home and hopefully will carry emotions to my new home.
So how will life treat me as a second year PR student? How many great new people will I meet this year? How will living in a house differ to campus halls? Will my new modules prove difficult? Time will tell.