School's back!

Today felt... huge.
Walking into the front lobby of OISE, I was overwhelmed by the sea of people around me, none of whom looked even remotely familiar. These: my future classmates, coworkers, friends. Beaming faces and blank slates in every direction.
A totally fresh start.

So we spent 2 hours playing name games and getting to know each other, and I came out of the experience that much happier and more energized for the year ahead: ready to tackle any and all challenges that crop up, excited to forge new relationships, wanting to step up and shine.

And on the bus ride home, I wanted to tell you about it. Because we've spent so much time pouring over this decision and whether or not it was the right one. Because I confessed all my deepest fears to you about this process, because you'd been there with me through the application process and the second-guessing, through the interviews and the acceptance letter, through the personal searching and growing, and even through the stagnation as I just waited for the rest of my life to start: and you would've appreciated what this day meant, better than anyone, and you would've been happy for me.

But I can't tell you about any of it.
I mean, I could swallow my pride and call you, that's not the issue. And I could put on a brave face and say that I wanted to be friends and that sharing this is part of what being friends entails.

But what would I do if you didn't care to hear it?

The truth is, I want to believe that we have this unbreakable bond, and that it'll be easy to fall back into some pattern of communication with you years from now, because you know me and you do care, and we could be genuinely happy for one another, and celebrate one another's successes as well as helping each other through failures...

But I'm so scared to find out that that's not true, that I can't risk it.
I can't risk you not caring, or not caring enough.

Isn't that what this is all about in the first place?
And that is just so, so sad.