The End

How does one get over St Andrews? Is there a way to go on the rebound from a place? If you have any insight on this matter, please let me know. I am finding it hard to verbalise what these four years of university have meant, and even more so to realise and put into words what this final week has been about.

Let's begin with the graduation ceremony: no one knew what to expect, and it is probably one of the only moments during my time at St Andrews in which I did not have to think at all. Everyone ushered us around inside Younger Hall, dressed us up, seated us, gave us signals. Easy peasy. Sort of. For me, the experience was a fine balance between contradictory emotional and bodily reactions. The incredible need to wee and the thirst; hunger and intestinal blockage; hot flashes and shivers; laughing fits and tears. I managed not to trip on the stage, and that is already something to be very grateful for.

The garden party, with the very thought-through purple pastry: all graduands this year are wearing purple on their lips, did you know? Parents meeting other parents who thank each other for the very deep friendships their sons and daughters have established, telling each other just how important these relationships are to their offspring. The sons and daughters look at each other in a conspiratorial,  "If they only knew," way.

Meeting friends after their ceremonies, ALL those photos, endless meals and alcohol bottles...this week has definitely not been good for anyone's diet or liver. The lack of sleep, the anticipation for parents to leave and gradball to happen...

And then graball, the most awkward way to say goodbye to friends: a massive marquee where, inevitably, we couldn't really find each other, but where we kept bumping into the people you kind of know by sight but have never been introduced to. The free ice cream was a bonus. They could have spared us the ice sculptures.

Saying goodbye was just another strange element of this, already, surreal week. Friends are part of who we've become during our time in St Andrews and splitting up feels a bit like splitting ourselves up, too. Learning how to keep on growing without them will be somewhat like learning how to ride a bike without the little wheels behind. Not knowing when we'll see each other again is nerve wrecking. To preserve the integrity of my keyboard, I will not dwell on this subject further: once the tears begin it's hard to stop them.

A great friend told me today that he never took adults seriously when they said time flies when you're young, but that he now has to give them credit for this platitude after these fours years. What we've accomplished here is no little feat, and the motivation to do well from now on will just keep growing, I think. Knowing parts of me are currently flying off to many different areas of the world also increases my enthusiasm, and so does the prospect of taking little bits of everyone with me. 

I cannot put into a few words what the end means, and what my time here has been like; using a degree name and classification seem to be pretty popular ways of summarising this. For now, I can only say I have come to a deeper understanding of what the words 'gratitude', 'pride' and 'worthiness' mean. So I guess this is what I got taught at University.

Thanks St Andrews, thanks friends. Time flies when you're young, so I'll see you again. Soon.