She asked me, "How was your undergrad experience?" The mental health expert looks across to me and awaits my answer. Up until this question I was fidgeting, guarded, and shut down. But then- I light up and say, "It was great. The best time of my life." I remember the feeling clearly. It was as if for a moment I was experiencing youth again. Gone were the expectations to be the super writer/gradstudent/girlfriend/friend/daughter/etc. or the anxiety of what if I'm going to be fucking poor and desperate in four months. I genuinely remembered a moment of my life where I was having a great time. Maybe in ten years I will remember these moments of being alone and maybe I will crave them. These two years of writing and crafting will mean something, and this really concise but intense time of my life will be a distant memory. I'm trying to appease people whom I may never see again.
Ying Out.
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