84 Seasons

By Lauren Slattery

Image from Annie Mathews

There was a moment when I realized summer did not feel quite as long as it did when I was six. Days dragged on and each month felt like an eternity, but now, no amount of time would be enough to satisfy my summer dreams. Back then, I had only had six summers, I’d only seen snow once, and I believed fall was just the avenue to Christmas. 

Now each summer feels like it goes away the second I begin to fall in love with it. Each fall I spend my time savoring the yellow leaves and trying to hold on to the long-sleeve shirts that don't need a jacket on top. When winter comes, I chase it away, remembering that soon it will be spring. Then all of a sudden the sun will be holed up in the sky for so long that I will begin to forget how dark winter really was. 

The last four years of college have felt like some of my longest days. Wake up, function, eat, class, sleep, be social, get involved, and don’t just pass, excel. The days feel so long. Then one day I woke up and realized that time is moving quicker than I could keep up with, and I so desperately wanted to hit pause and take a moment to sit in it. 

Freshman year was a whirlwind of new names, faces, and things. Freshman year was full of uncomfortable spaces and worrying that I was missing out every time I stayed in my dorm.

Sophomore year was when I began to find my footing. Sophomore year was when I decided that the third time really is the charm when it came to picking a major.

Junior year didn’t feel real. Junior year was as if sophomore year continued, and I was just waiting to start my life.

Then I spent my first summer in Raleigh, and somewhere along the way, I forgot that was my last summer ever. Suddenly the last decade I had spent in school was not long enough, and still the feeling that my life is only just beginning remains. 

I feel too young to be married, too young to have a family, too young to decide where I will settle down and plant roots.

I am somewhere stuck between being an adult and still feeling 17. I am stuck somewhere in the middle of terror and excitement at the thought of moving on from the only schedule I have known.

I’ve reached this insignificant but overwhelming realization that I have lived through 84 seasons.