Do not be offended by my use of air quotation marks. It's simply because you are the most daunting prospect about leaving the comfort of my own home. I do not believe I am going to make any of you. Ridiculous I know. Everybody thinks like this before they set off to university, but I genuinely don't see any of you in my future. You probably think I'm being melodramatic, but seriously I really don't expect you to like me. I'm an acquired taste. One that takes longer than a freshers week to comprehend. But in case (by some wild chance) I do happen to make some of you (and you compare in any way, shape or form to the ones I've already got and are quite happy with and do not want to leave) then there are a few things you should know.
Firstly, you are not replacements. Everything's changing and maybe I won't stay friends with everybody I want to, but there are approximately 5 people in this world that you are not better than. I don't care how much you love the same stuff I love, or if you possess a large amount of spirit or if you're the sister of my soul. I just don't. They win. Hands down. Sorry. It's nothing personal.
Secondly I think I should probably address my sense of humour. Sarcasm may indeed be the lowest form of wit, but it also happens to be my favourite. If you find I take joy in shooting you down, I probably like you. As long as there is a sense of playfulness to my tone, then honestly I'm not being a bitch. You'd know if I wasn't your biggest fan. Embrace the sarcasm. Learn to love it.
When we first meet I will be awkward, shy and generally anti-social. I know the glasses and the degree choice don't help matters. I'm bad at small talk. Let's get that over with as quickly and painlessly as possible and settle into being friends. I'll be better then. I promise.
Pronounce my name right and we'll be BFF's in no time.
Dear Friends,
No air quotation marks for you (see previous if you've cheated and skipped ahead), you're certain. Lucky you! I'm pretty darn selective and you've made the cut. Hurrah and suchlike!
I should probably be saying this to your faces. I imagine I'll write a letter to each of you. An actual letter. With paper and everything. But for now, this will do. I'm packing. Putting my 18 years into boxes and leaving the home I so ferociously adore. And I'm leaving you. Actually that's quite a vain way of seeing it. We're all leaving each other, I suppose.
You (and you all know who you are) have made this period of life so much more than just bearable. Your combined wit and humour, loyalty, generosity, honesty and just the tiniest sprinkle of magic are what is making this transition so painful. I am leaving, tomorrow. I keep having to say it to myself. It's not sinking in properly. I don't want it to.
I wish I could kid myself into thinking we'll stay exactly how we are and that we're stronger than distance and our friendship surpasses time; but If we fall apart and we never speak again, let us not clutch at half forgotten jokes when we see each other again, and let our friendships not fade with bitterness or even anger. Let's stay this way forever (in our memories if nothing else). 18 and in love with the world.
Dear Boy,
Who knows why I can't just say your name. Everyone that matters knows already and the Internet doesn't care. But oh well. A little ambiguity (even fake ambiguity) is always fun.
Why did you have to go and make life so much better? It's annoying.
Dear Family,
I'm not a complete disaster. I can't cook very well, but I'll cope. I think you did okay. In fact, I think you did way better than okay. Everything I ever achieve, it's all for you.
Lots of love,
Sara (no h).
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