“Uh, I don’t know, how about working your life away for a corporation who doesn’t give a shit about you? What about wasting hours of your life doing work you hate?”
“And then, because you do the work you hate, you can provide for your loved ones! You can take long, extravagant vacations and buy whatever you want!”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing I need to buy. There’s no material item I could get that would make me feel good about my life. All I really ever wanted was you, and… and I know I’m not going to have that anymore, so… no.”
“You still could,” she pushed. “I really think you’d adjust and see how perfect it all could be…”
This was it; this was when I needed to excuse myself. Because I’d meant what I’d said. I wanted her, and I was scared of being alone, so I feared what I might give in to. And I didn’t want to be a different version of myself. I liked who I was.
“I’ve got a train to catch,” I told her as I stood up and started to collect my vastly different suitcases.
I could see tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m not ready for what comes next,” she muttered.
“And neither am I. But we’ll both get through it, eventually.”
I was not tearing up. I refused. I refused to cry in front of her. I was going to stuff these feelings down and not revisit them. Not on the train, not when I reached my friend’s apartment, not any time in the future.
I’d done enough crying. Now, I needed to move forward.
I gave one last glance around her apartment, taking it all in. It was perfection; it truly was. From the actual hardwood floors to the granite slab countertops, it was luxury as I’d always imagined. And I couldn’t help but think about how this luxury was all she needed. This was what she wanted; this was what would make her happy.
But not me. I would never be happy this way.
I looked at her one last time before heading toward the door. “Goodbye, Julia.”
She didn’t say a word as I walked through the door.
2
Emily
I threw my textbook onto my bed, deciding that I absolutely had to be done for the night. As tempting as it may have been to continue to force myself to work, I couldn’t do it. Not again.
There were only so many all-nighters you could pull before sleep deprivation hit you. And it was definitely hitting me.
It was my last year at Beasley, though, and I supposed this was just how the last year was supposed to go. After this year, I’d have my degree in civil engineering, and it’d all be worth it.
I collapsed onto my bed, feeling the soft blue blanket that sat atop my comforter against my cheek. I could fall asleep right here and now, if I didn’t still need to get up and brush my teeth.
Knowing me, after I brushed my teeth, I’d come back to bed and stay awake while having a minor existential crisis. At least, that was how every other night of my week had gone.
I’d always been a person who was prone to overthinking. I’d analyze every aspect of my life until I started to feel either very calm or very panicked, depending on the current state of my life. You’d think right now, I’d be feeling very calm, considering I was theoretically exactly where I’d always wanted to be in life.
I was about to get my degree. I had a pretty good job in Beasley’s cafeteria in the meantime. I loved my living situation. There wasn’t anything really going wrong in my life, nothing that should have been causing me real stress.
And yet, real stress had found me, as it always did.
It was like the closer I got to graduation, the more stressed I became. Graduation should’ve been a good thing, but the thought of transitioning from college life to real life was more than a little daunting.
It prompted me to ask some hard questions of myself. The biggest and worst question being, had I made a mistake? Was any of this really what I’d even wanted?
I used to think I’d enjoy civil engineering. And of course, civil engineers made good money, which had factored into my decision to become one.
But lately, I wasn’t sure. I definitely didn’t enjoy my classes; the subject matter didn’t interest me whatsoever. My last year of college was probably the worst time to figure that out, but the closer I got to graduation, the less I was able to lie to myself. I didn’t like my major.
It wasn’t the end of the world; plenty of people ended up discovering they didn’t like their majors. Even more, plenty of people worked jobs they didn’t enjoy
. In fact, I’d argue that most people ended up working jobs they didn’t enjoy. So after college, I’d likely fit right in. And at least if I wasn’t enjoying it, I’d be making good money doing it.