slipping out quietly

i thought i'd make this big exit when i graduated and left minneapolis. you know, going to all my last classes and making a big deal about not having class anymore forever. or showing up at the last chapel of the school year and standing up when dean said "let's recognize all the seniors at their last chapel." scheduling goodbye appointments with all of my friends and sharing a tearful goodbye with someone at the airport on monday morning when i fly to lubbock.

alas,

i've slept through most of the chapels of the past few weeks, haven't really gone to much class, and am likely going to drive to lubbock now that my dad wants to get me a car. and i'm realizing that there is no possible way i can have a coffee date with every person i've loved since 2006.


i feel like my finish here is really cushioned. soft. i'm sleeping through milestones. whispering goodbyes. slipping out of a party quietly.

it's weird, and it's not what i would have picked or predicted, but i know God is being good to me in it.