I'm sitting on my desk in my apartment (my chair has been taken apart so it fits in the car) quite literally surrounded by all my stuff in boxes and bags. As soon as I'm done rambling, I'm leaving to go take the Crowds,Cults&Revolutions final. And then I'm done. Four and a half years later, I'm done. And I feel nothing. Nothing, except maybe relief that I never, ever have to come back here or do this again.

Kris came over Sunday night. We ate pizza and watched movies and walked around Main St. We talked about all the good times we had when we were both undergrads at Ship, all the people we hung out with, the parties we went to, and the amazing drunk one liners ("I can't like you anymore because you're a Republican." and the boys we crushed on. We talked about the things we've been through and where we are now, and what the future holds. We wondered what our old friends, the ones we've fallen out of touch with, are now, what they're doing, if they're happy.

This is the end. I really thought I knew what I wanted, where I wanted life to go, what I wanted to do. I thought my future included a job in juvenile probation until my cousin was murdered and I realized that I can't spend my life defending murders and dealers and bad people. I thought it included a boy who's moving to Australia, but he's gotten distant or grad school has become a hurdle we can't make it over, or something. We haven't really talked in days, we haven't seen each other, and the last time I asked, he was too busy to spend two hours meeting me for lunch this week, so I don't know if the boy I'm in love with is still part of my future or not.

This is the end. People are talking about jobs and families and happy holidays and I'm just as lost and confused as I was when I walked off to band camp four and a half years ago, at 18. Maybe I'm not supposed to know. Maybe I'm just supposed to roll with it, to let whatever comes, come. Maybe, but what if I don't want to leave it up to fate?

Sadly, my stuff in boxes and bags, lights off, watching the rain turn into snow is the most peaceful I've felt in days. The apartment feels sad, my heart is feeling heavy, and I know I eventually have to go outside into the "wintry mix" which won't be fun. Mostly though, I'm alone.

This is, apparently, the end. Just please, tell me how I'm supposed to feel about it.