Tears
started streaming down my cheeks as I buried my face into their shoulders for
the last time. I knew this day was coming, but as cliché as it sounds, I can’t
believe it came so fast. As soon as I gave them my last goodbyes, I ran up the
stairs to my dorm room and new home. I couldn’t stand to look at them any longer;
parting was a lot harder that I thought it would be. August 28th 2013 was the day I said
goodbye to my parents and started my new chapter here at BYU.
I’ve lived in New Jersey my whole
life. All my friends resided there, and the majority of my family lived close
by. Sea Isle beach was an hour away, New York (The Big Apple) was two hours away,
Philly (The City of Brotherly Love) was ten minutes away, and my favorite fast
food restaurant, Chipotle, was only a five minute drive. I couldn’t ask for
anything more, yet I knew that I had to go and start this new adventure. I have
always wanted to move to Provo and attend my dream school. I imagined having
tons of friends, acing all my classes, being surrounded by lots of LDS kids who
share my standards, and going on plenty of dates. Though, after I said goodbye
to my Chihuahua named Lucky, extended family, friends, and a guy who made my
heart skip a beat, I realized how this change would not occur as blissfully as
I thought.
I ran up the stairs covering my puffy
face and collapsed onto my bed, where I cried for a solid hour. My parents were
on their way to the airport at this very second. Then it hit me, these two
people who have raised me and have been there for me the last eighteen years will
soon be two thousand miles away.
“Hey! You’re here! So happy I finally get
to meet you!” my roommate Michelle said as she walked into the door.
“Yea. Same here.” I choked out. I was
still an emotional wreck, and the thought of interacting with people just
didn’t seem appealing. Especially this stranger who already left a bad
impression by how obnoxiously friendly she was.
Months have passed, and it was
already November. By this time, my roommate and I have grown close, but I still
didn’t feel happy and at ease. A lot of nights, I curled up into fetal position
with my knees tucked in as I silently cried myself to sleep, in hopes that
Michelle wouldn’t hear. I remembered how easy it was to fall asleep when I
could hear the soft snores of little Lucky who was cuddled up against my chest
every night. I called my friends and parents everyday, because just the sounds
of their voices helped cure my homesickness. I was going through the motions,
living life day by day. I woke up, got ready, went to class, studied, ate, came
home, reminisced about a happier time, and slept. It took too much effort to
befriend new people, all the guys that took interest in me were peculiar, and
the curriculum challenged me on a whole other level. I was stressed, and all
the sudden changes destroyed the comfortable, happy life I once had. Then one
day, the thought of Café Rio brought a smile to my face.
It was a dreaded Monday. I hate
Mondays. Who doesn’t? On the bright side, I only had two classes. I got up at
seven, so I could get ready for my eight a.m. class. I walked all the way to
the CB from Helaman Halls and sat in my seat. I looked around, only to see two
other people in the classroom when class started in exactly two minutes. I
checked my email to find out that class was cancelled today! What the heck? I
totally could’ve slept in! Well, my next class wasn’t till one, so obviously, I
was going to go back home and sleep for a bit. As I was walking back home, I
felt a weird tug as my backpack went over my head and knocked me down
completely. How did this happen? I was walking at a normal pace, and there was
no physical contact with another person, but it felt like some powerful force
completely threw me off balance. I didn’t just trip or stumble, my hands and
knees were on the ground, and my face was inches away from the concrete. Thank
goodness my earphones were in to block out all the laughs and giggles that
occurred at Brigham Square.
“Shoot,” I muttered to myself. Except, I
used a word that wasn’t BYU appropriate.
“Are you okay?” a girl asked as she came
over to help me up.
“Yea. I’m fine,” I said as I quickly
picked myself up, trying not to cause a scene.
“Your foot is bleeding!”
“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m heading home
anyway,” I said as I looked down at my foot to see my big toe completely ripped
open and gushing blood.
I hobbled home leaving a trail of
red gore behind me. When I got to my dorm, my flip flop and foot was completely
coated in blood. “Great, this has got to be the best Monday ever!” I
sarcastically exclaimed to myself. I went to the bathroom and cleaned my foot
up and bandaged my big toe that looked like it went through a paper shredder. I
curled up in bed and thought about this splendid Monday. I got up early and
walked across campus for a cancelled class, then somehow managed to fall and
bust my big toe on the way home. As I laid there, I decided that I did not want
to go to my one o’clock Book of Mormon class. It was actually my favorite
class, and I always felt spiritually fed and uplifted every time I went. I knew
I had to go, but after such a rough morning, all I wanted was to just lay in
bed and feel sorry for myself.
I continued laying in bed, then got
up to get ready, but found myself under the covers again. I tossed and turned,
but there was a nagging sensation that filled my body and literally pulled me
out of bed. I looked into the mirror to see a face I didn’t recognize. She was
a mess, and she did not look like the cheerful girl who use to embrace life and
everyone around her. I tossed my hair up into the sloppiest bun and thought to
myself, “Well this is as good as it’s going to get.” I walked out of my dorm and
hobbled to class with my wrapped up toe still aching in pain. I arrived to the
Benson building, and class was already starting, so I sat all the way in the
back, instead of my usual front row seat.
“When going through our mortal life on
earth, Satan will do anything and everything in his power to keep us from
progressing. The trials we face are made for us, although they seem
overbearing, the Lord knows we can handle them. A positive attitude helps us to
be happier and more grateful when facing challenges. We need to go through
these inconvenient experiences in order to grow. Success and growth occur when
we step out of our comfort zone.” As soon as Brother Griffin was done preaching
to us, I just sat in my chair with uncontrollable tears flowing down my face,
letting his message sink into my heart and reside with me. This was exactly
what I needed to hear to get me through the rest of the semester and life in
general!
On my way home from class, I
couldn’t stop smiling. Life was beautiful and great! Later that night, as I was
in bed getting ready to fall asleep, I thought about the positive points instead
of dwelling on the negative events: I was fortunate to wake up and be alive, I
was able to take a nice two hour nap, and I listened to the prompting to go to
class. That was the first night that I didn’t shed a single tear. I stopped calling
friends from home and took advantage of the opportunities I had here to meet
new people. I admired the gorgeous mountains every morning on my way to class
and enjoyed the setting sun on my way home. I finally stopped complaining about
the lack of Chipotle and basked in the tastiness known as Café Rio.
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