This year is legitimately almost over, and it’s starting to freak me out. As I write this letter, there are two weeks left until the last day of classes. Finals are sneaking up, the seniors are near graduating, and my friend is even getting married at the end of the year.
There was a tornado warning the other night around 3:45 a.m.—I texted my friend. “Are we going to die?” “Is this the end?” The lightning shook my flimsy windows so hard I thought they’d shatter and the rusted pipe opposite my bed started to leak. It was freaky, almost apocalyptic, and I had the sense that there were so few people awake that I was one of the only people in the world experiencing the storm.
And it shocked me how quickly it blew in and blew away, raging one minute and silent the next. I sat with my window open and looked, thinking about sleeping but jolted out of my stupor by the lightning.
There’s nothing like a freak 3 a.m. tornado warning to make you feel contemplative.
And I guess I contemplated changes, the fact that I have no finals, having the whole month of May to myself. It feels weird, kind of freeing, and more than a little scary. But it felt okay. The storm passed, and I fell asleep, calmer than I had been. These next few weeks will be intense, tiring, and emotional. But I’m ready for them to also be really damn fun. I hope you all—at least, all three of you who read these letters—remember to have fun too.