Posted in Self-evaluation

27/365: Clearing out

I figured that I would clean my desk today.
It’s been a mess since starting university.

I have finished all my courses.
I’m a bit of a hoarder so any books I didn’t get to sell, any reading print outs, course outlines, notes and etc. I have kept them all.
All lecture notes, exam notes, reading notes.
Every reading.

I always thought “What if I want to look back on them?”
So I thought that I better keep it.
For keepsakes.
For memories.
Just in case.

But really, knowing me, I’ll probably never look back on them. Just leave them to collect dust.
But that’s just how my mind works, better safe than sorry.
So I hoard, because I never know when and where they might be useful.

But today, I was looking and sorting through the pile of paper on my desk and thinking of ways to store them.
I realized that there is just no way.
Where am I going to keep it?
In a box? In the basement?
What’s going to happen when I move? Am I going to move with them? Probably not.
So I pushed myself to throw the out in the recycling bin.
But more than “just in case,” I think it was a more emotional attachment to them that I never realized.

The truth is, I’m never going to be a bachelor of Social Work student again, ever.
I’m never going to be re-taught the things my professors have so patiently taught.
I’m never going to see my classmates, or colleagues, ever again.
I’m never going to have another class with my friends again.
All the fun times I had with them in every class, I’m never going to have them again.
Keeping the paperwork was my way of silently holding onto that memory, unable to let go.
All the long nights.
All the late nights.
All the stress, all the talks.
All gone.

Maybe I am being overly dramatic, but all the feelings I never let out is just exemplifying the ones I am choosing to let out.

I am just going to miss it.
Miss everything.

I am going to miss going to school.
I am going to miss the people I won’t see.
Yes, I will still talk to them.
But it won’t be a routine.
I’m afraid of being forgotten, so I refuse to forget and move on, although moving on doesn’t always mean forgetting.
It’s just continuing on the journey of my path.
I need to move on.
I need to keep walking and not look back, because whatever I don’t want to forget is going to come with me.
The good memories, I will always have them. They will always be with me.
In my mind, and in my heart.
I just wanted some material attachment so that it’s easier to remember.

But there will be more good times to come.
There will be more.
It doesn’t stop here.

I can always go back to school.
I can continue with my education.
I will meet more great people to create new memories with.
I will have my old friends to continue creating new memories with.
I will have myself.

Nothing has changed, but just moving on.

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