I didn't know how much I'd cry

My last day of work and on BYU campus was May 5, 2011. I started working for the Department of Statistics my first week of school my freshman year and finished working there two weeks after graduating. During the time I worked there I clocked 3112 hours and 49 minutes. That's a long time. 

Turns out as frustrating as it was sometimes and as much I wanted a job with more flexibility and less responsibility (like some of my friends ridiculous TA or RA jobs) I actually really loved that place. I told the faculty in an email on the day that I left that after four years, our little corner of the Talmage building had become a second home to me and I was sad to leave. The department became a constant for me throughout changing majors, classes, roommates, relationships and semesters. College is a time of change but to have something stable made such a difference to the experience I had at BYU.

So I cried. Three times that day. 

And I cried when I drove away from Provo. 

I'd cried during graduation too. 

And a couple other times. 

I knew it was going to be hard. I had realized that as excited as I was to move on to new things and as antsy as I was to leave Provo and BYU culture behind me and as tired I was of school and structure that I was actually going to miss this place. 

I'd realized that this was my home. Four years is so short and yet four years is a long time. I will never be the same person because of the experiences I had at BYU. The classes I took, the professors I interacted with, the people I worked with and for, the friends I made, the boys I dated, the boys I didn't date, the BYU culture I love and participated in, the BYU culture I ran away from, the sports I watched, the performances I saw, the places I walked, the places I studied, the places I didn't study, the places I slept. All of it has changed me. Shaped me. Helped me to become the Rachel that I am right now. And when you leave something that important for you it's hard not feel a little bit of sad. 

Heck, I'm crying right now. 

Crying because of how happy I am that I had the chance to grow and change at BYU.  I'd hardly recognize the girl who left four years ago. I'm happy to look in the mirror at the girl I am now. 

BYU was the place I was supposed to be for my undergraduate degree. I'm so glad of that. 

I just didn't know how grateful until it was time for me to leave this little bubble. 

One more thought: 

Yes, I left BYU unmarried. No, I don't get my money back. :) 

Really though,  I have very ambivalent feelings about this. Sometimes, I'm thrilled. I beat the system. All my friends told me I'd go to BYU and get married and waste everything that I ever was. I didn't agree with the idea that getting married would be a waste but it definitely could have changed my path in life. I had so many opportunities because I was only responsible for myself. I went to London, I went to Princeton and was involved in Stand for the Family. I played hard. I made wonderful friends. I have a degree that I love. And I get to go get my master's degree. But sometimes, it honestly makes me sad. And scared. If I couldn't find a husband with 15,000 eligible bachelors around me what makes me think I ever will? If no one wanted me then, why would they want me now? Crazy thoughts like that come into my head. And I have to make decisions like where to go to grad school and I don't want to make them by myself. And I get lonely. And frustrated. And annoyed. I hated BYU dating culture 9 times out of 10. It's a game that I'm tired of playing. Or failing at. Whatever. But at the same time. I didn't play. No NCMOs for me. No premies or dear Johns. No cliches. And I like that. Like a lot. So blah. I don't know how I feel about it. And now you know that I don't know how I feel about.

However, on an amusing note. I had three dates my last three days in Provo. How and why did that happen? I'm not exactly sure. But it did. And it made for some fantastic pillow talk with Andrea.