My last exam of my sophomore year was Saturday night at seven o’clock. I wrote two exams on saturday, my two most important [one being relevant to my major, the other needing a better mark than what I was going in with], so Friday was a day full of stress and worry. At the peak up my upset, on Friday afternoon, I was on the verge of tears and just wanted to give up when I checked my facebook messages to find that I had received one from my mother. She had written me to ask if I would like her to come and pick me up from school on Sunday, rather than me waiting and going back with Joey on Thursday. I began to cry, this time with relief and gratitude towards my ever-thoughtful mother.
On her way down, my mother picked up my sister from her respective university, just for the drive and the help packing and moving. After dropping off half of my possessions at the apartment where I will be living in the fall, we packed the rest of my stuff into the car, had some supper, and headed home.
While it felt extremely nice to be finished, to head home where there would be no work to be done [at least for the first little bit], I knew that I was leaving something crucial behind: my social life.
Oh, and my boyfriend.
We don’t often spend time apart. At school, for the past two years, we’ve lived in the same residence buildings, meaning we were never more than a few steps away from each other. This year especially, neither of us had roommates, we lived on the same floor, and had a lot of the same friends, so we were basically inseparable. Which makes these past few days especially rough. He is still at school, surrounded with friends, and no rules or overbearing parents, while I’m stuck at home with no one but my bratty, fifteen year old brother to keep me company, and parents that have been breathing down my neck since I stepped in the door on Sunday night. Can you tell me in what way this is fair?
