There's different opinions about the new semester: some really enjoyed their first study-free Christmas, some wished for exams after Christmas to be spared from the extreme stress that was last semester. I count myself amongst the former, but there's a price to be paid for everything, isn't there?
Can it be that love really does last only for three years? I ask myself this as I sulkily pulled my suitcase up the stairs to our flat after the holidays, the memory of the Mexican sun still shining too brightly in my head to make this an easy return. Sulkily, I've been making my way around the same old (three) streets, and have only rejoiced in finding my amazing friends waiting for me with open arms. As much as it pains me to think I'll be leaving those arms soon, the idea that, in the near future, I will not have to face the same cobblestone alleys everyday brings me a lot of comfort.
Yet, is it that I just need to fall in love with St Andrews again? Weather allowing, I'll just have to venture out for a long walk on West Sands, sit on the pier at sunrise and breathe the earthy smells of Lade Braes. Or maybe I've really just had enough; maybe the time has come to start sealing my usual cardboard boxes, full of memories, and start forcing everyone into planning weekly Skype sessions (group sessions, if need be) to fight the separation anxiety and withdrawal symptoms I'll inevitably experience after leaving.
And yet, perhaps my disenchantment is associated to fulfilment. Like all good relationships, St Andrews and I have brought out the best in each other, and now I am ready to move on to greater things...or maybe new disappointments that will make me appreciate St Andrews even further. For the time being, I'm looking for new ways to spice this relationship up a little, find that spark we had the first few years. I think, however, it may take a little more than sexy lingerie and a candle-lit dinner...
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