Originally I had the spring 2022 semester — the second semester of my sophomore year of college — mapped out as an inconsequential one. I had spent the last year and a half building a solid foundation for myself in Boston. My job, friends and school work all seemed stable. The flight back to the city after winter break felt natural and less overwhelming than past journeys back to school. My biggest worry was the huge grocery haul that my empty kitchen desperately needed.
The calmness that embodied my perception of the next few months of my life should have been an initial warning sign. Things are never as one would expect.
I was welcomed back to Boston in the dead of winter, and boy oh boy! There is a reason why the first response to a mention of attending university in Boston is, “It’s cold up there!” Believe me, they are right.
Just a few weeks into new classes, my life began to replicate nature’s attitude. A surprising and difficult conversation with my roommates left me hurt, confused and in need of an apartment for next year.
Although I quickly sorted out the latter of the three, February felt as though there was a blizzard in my head. Pounding down feelings of self-loathing, immediately followed by self-comforting and brought together by immense self-questioning. I did not know if I was embarrassed by myself or proud of myself.
But, alas, the snow melts! I began investing my time into relationships I had not been as focused on. These people listened to me, checked in on me and allowed space for me to grow — this began the thaw of February’s ice. Well, this and the immense attention and conversation surrounding the upcoming sorority recruitment.
Practically five days straight of all of my energy placed into one goal — get to know a bunch of really cool girls. I may have complained my butt off, but these five days felt like the light at the end of the tunnel. And though I plan on studying abroad next year when recruitment takes place, it brings a smile to my face. They felt like that first warm day in March.
However, if you know anything about winter in Boston, that first warm day is simply a tease. And the bitter days that follow seem a bit colder than before.
First, a text to call my previous acting teacher during which she delivered devastating news about the unexpected loss of one of my favorite students. A couple of weeks later, an eerily similar text from my mom to answer the phone. The purpose of that call was to inform me of our family friend passing away. Suddenly, it is March, and it is below freezing with whipping winds.
A complex type of grieving takes place when you are isolated from anyone who feels your loss. Instead of everyone knowing and understanding, you have to tell people what has happened and who these people were to you and what they did for the world in a selfish plea for comfort. This got tiring quickly, and suddenly, I had to do it all again.
March hurt me. But, somehow, woven into this month of loss and grief were those random 70 degree type days. My friends who did know what was going on were so caring, and my calendar was filled with coffee dates to meet the new girls in my sorority.
I came back to Boston after returning home for one of the funerals, and time just sort of began to go by without my noticing. Weekends were fun, school was busy and my thoughts focused more on apparition, rather than sadness.
About a week ago I had a post-class Wednesday picnic with two of my friends. The weather was beautiful, dogs came up to us and I was enjoying a salmon avocado roll. I was happy. We all agreed on the bizarre magic of a Boston spring.
It felt as though overnight flowers came out of nowhere and buds lined the branches of trees for the first time in months. The excitement of not needing a jacket to go outside and the promise of fast summer approaching — it is all just so Boston spring!
Boston spring is healing. Boston spring is exciting. Boston spring marks the end of Boston winter and man! Do I need my Boston winter to be over!
I am officially ending my sophomore year in my Boston spring.