transition lenses

Starting this blog (though it was my own choice and possibly a sign of my own propensity for melodrama) signifies the beginning of the end.

It's terrifying and sad, and it's especially hard right now because I don't know what the new beginning will look like. I don't even know what province it will be in and, frankly, grad schools' arbitrary timelines make me want to scream. I don't want to make such an important decision because of my impatience and other schools' sadistic enjoyment of fucking with applicants. Either way, though, I'm incredibly excited about continuing to the next part of my education; it feels like I'm growing up, and I like that.

Regardless of what the beginning will look like, though, the end doesn't get easier. I love my comfortable little bubble at Brock in residence and especially as a Don. In the real world, people do a lot of things I'm not okay with, that I don't want to have to bother with. I am about to be thrown back into the "normal" dog-eat-dog young adult culture of trying to be cool. I suck at trying to be cool (unless it's hip to explain to people why calling things "gay" is hurtful or to suggest that they "make good choices"). It's going to be interesting, if nothing else.

However, I also wonder if, when I'm on the other side, RLS won't seem so rosy and ideal anymore? In some ways, I'm not naive and I see that it's flawed, but in others I maintain a strong grasp on my rose-coloured sunglasses. Such is my life most of the time. Regardless, though, I know for certain I'm going to miss the closeness and comfort of the relationships I've made here, and I'm going to miss my friends a lot. I hear that hugs are few and far between out there, and I'm not looking forward to that.
I rely on hugs more than anyone knows.