Oh Very Young

I forgot what dorm life was like. It’s only been 2 years, but it was 2 years of an apartment with my own room and a kitchen and single bathroom. I forgot about mini fridges and electric kettles, fans to dull the construction noise and desk lights when you’re roommate chooses to go to bed early and you have a paper due the next day. I forgot about terrible shower pressure and water that either burns your skin or gives you goose bumps, and that using the same bathroom, shower, and door handles as everyone in the building means germs spread like wildfire and you’re always slightly ill, but everyone else is too.

I forgot about the late nights, lying in bed talking to a roommate because you both can’t sleep, and that random people knocking at all hours. I forgot about the camaraderie this creates between strangers, late nights sitting on floors playing card games and talking about anything and everything in between. Breakfasts and dinners in a dining hall, every day, and the relative comfort of seeing the same faces, even the ones who irritate you. And I forgot about doing laundry in a sketchy situation, just crossing my fingers and hoping it is really clean.

This is probably my last experience with dorm life. Next year I have an apartment at school, and after that I will graduate and go on to real life, real homes, real living. And 98% of the time, I won’t miss the germs, noise, and general exhaustion that comes from living with people 24/7. But I will miss the people. I’ll miss having someone to talk to at any hour because some one else always can’t sleep too. The random fits of laughter from the inside jokes and bedtime stories at 3AM. In a few years, I am going to miss knowing that I am 20 years old, feeling so young and so old all at once sometimes because I am old enough to drink boxed wine on the floor of my apartment, and young enough to dream of glass wine bottles in the future.

We are the in-between age. No matter what the government decrees, turning 18 or 21 is not what makes you an adult. It’s when you learn to stand on your own feet, and when you can take charge in a sticky situation with grace and maturity. It’s when you no longer want to sit on the floor and drink boxed wine because the glass bottles have a better flavor, and hey, you have to work in the morning. Let’s go to bed by 11 PM.

College is the strange time. My friends and I have learned to love to have a glass of wine with dinner, a dinner of eggplant parm we make with my grandma’s recipe. We want to stay in and watch a movie instead of going to the popular party, toting cheap vodka in water bottles and collecting frat boy’s phone numbers. We are reaching that age where the first of our friends are seriously dating; a few are getting engaged, growing up. No longer is a boyfriend an accessory for prom, but a potential mate for life.

The friends I am making now are ones who could actually be in my wedding, hold my future children, come and visit my family when we move out of state one day. The friends who have made it this far will most likely be there for the rest of my life. They are the ones I can call at 3 AM crying, and who will walk to my apartment in the rain to hold my hand. They are the ones I will never shake; they drive me absolutely crazy because they know me too well.

There are still moments, days, especially nights where I am homesick. Sometimes I am even college-sick, missing the $5 pizzas on the corner and playing beer pong on sticky kitchen tables. I catch myself wondering why I chose this, who thought going away for 4 months was a good idea? Me. I did. I do. I am learning about a foreign culture by living in it, on a residential area for an entire semester. That is such an amazing opportunity that I will always have to remember.

So, there are hard days. Who am I kidding: there are hard weeks. But I am growing up and this is one of the steps I have to take. I am going to go lie on a friend’s floor and laugh until my stomach hurts, at 3 AM when I have class in the morning. This weekend I am going out, and I will dance in high heels until we trip back to campus on the tube, my feet sore but in a good way. When I wake up at noon I will have a headache, but nothing an Advil and some coffee can’t fix, because I am 20. I am young but old, and I might as well take advantage of it.