Is it really him or the loss of my innocence I've been missing so much?

In the true spirit of Wells College, I'm drinking coffee. At 8PM. The package may have changed, and I'm missing two very key people, but it's still like drinking liquid nostalgia. This place has changed so much, and yet everywhere I look, there's a memory. One of Julia's friends was in here last night, and he was telling me all about the Evenline festivities of this year. I told him about Whit being a coach, and he was very excited. He's friends with one of this year's coach's and so he ran down the hall to grab the song book AND Cleo. Meant to take a picture, ladies, but I forgot. Old age has, inevitably, set in.

Also in the true spirit of Wells, I received a parking ticket last night. I'm going to keep it as a memento... it reminds me of the days before my great (and also beneficial) friendship with C. Daloia. Now he's married to one of my greatest friends.

There's a "smoker's table" in the upper leach parking lot; every time we leave, there's a group of kids hanging out there. It's the only "legal" place to smoke on campus... besides the middle of the road. New York State, of course, owns that. I've quit smoking, and I'm glad I did, but I had some of my best times smoking with Whit outside the library in the dead of winter, or on the steps behind Weld. Between Mom and Dad splitting up, and the end of what you could very loosely call my relationship with Ben, there was a lot that happened to me outside of Wells. But this place was, and continues to be, magical. It has an amazing ability to make the outside world feel very far away. It's my best version of an escape, which I think is why I'm so much wanting to come back. I'm at a stalemate in my life; I've let go of Ben, finally, and I think all of that anger was what was getting me through. It made me determined, but it also made me vulnerable, and now that I've healed, I can't wait to take the next step. I'm not sure it will work out. There's a good chance that they won't give me enough money to come back and I'll have to think of something else. But just knowing that I've had the guts to put the ball in motion, assures me that everything will be okay.

So, ladies. I'm raising my coffee cup to you. In solidarity, sisterhood and caffeine, I miss you both so much. I think our next reunion should be under the Sycamore. I'll bring the Dunkin'.