On the morning of August 25, eight years to the day after I first began undergraduate studies, I became, once again, a college student. That first August 25, in distant 2006, marked the beginning of a long and black journey, but this one inaugurated a full-on thrust towards a bright future.
As welcome as this new start is, however, it has also been a bit strange.
Three years ago, during the fall of 2011, I commenced what I believed would be my last semester on a college campus. At the time, closing that chapter of my life felt right and fitting. To suddenly find myself a university resident again at the age of twenty-six is surreal.
"I was thinking of you today," I said to Laquesha on the phone. "Moving in has made me all kinds of nostalgic."
It's been like traveling back in time, walking amongst these young men and women who were only in middle school when I first began college.
But maybe I don't stand out as much as I imagined.
"So, are you a freshman here?" one boy asked me as I waited in line at the dining hall.
No. No, I am not.
Classes are good thus far, with Mountain State History emerging as the surprising favorite. And my dormitory on campus is complemented by a house only twenty minutes away, so that when the pace of things at school slows down the comfort of home is but a quick ride down the road. My second college experience is proving to be more relaxed than my first.
The welcome absence of my father makes that nest all the more inviting, and will, I hope, contribute to a happy and productive semester.
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