It’s Sunday morning, and Family Weekend is over. I spent two and a half loaded days with my parents cheering for the Duke basketball team, performing my first live band concert since February 2020, and taking pictures. Lots of them. Now I stand by the curb and watch as my parents drive out of my dorm parking lot to head home, my heart hollow. Take me with you, I silently tell them. Let me spend just a few days with you at home.

But there is nothing for me to do at home, I remind myself. My parents are working. All my childhood friends are dispersed throughout the country, living their new lives with their new friends. My life is here at Duke now, and has been for almost a year and a half.

As I trudge back to my dorm I briefly close my eyes and picture my room at home. I envision baby blue walls, portraits of all-state bands from years past, the yellow analog duck clock. I see the window where I always pressed my nose to stare at the twin maple trees. A warm wave of familiarity and nostalgia washes over me. God, their leaves must be starting to turn red and orange now, I think to myself. Halloween is coming, and kids will be dressing up to trick-or-treat…

A high-pitched voice slices through my daydream. It sounds like a sales pitch. “I chose Duke because you can truly do anything here!” the voice chirps. My eyes flutter open and I see a circle of fifteen bright-eyed high school students and their even brighter, almost hungry-eyed parents. In the middle stands the tour guide. The voice belongs to her.

She continues. “Not only does Duke have top-tier academics, but students are always so willing to help each other out and know how to have fun. This school has something for everyone!” 

One high school girl gawks at the Chapel, then makes a full 360° to fully absorb her surroundings, and does it all over again. She glances at her father and their eyes exchange a silent conversation, brief but firm. This is it. This is the school. This is not one dream, this is the dream. And I am an extra in this girl’s dream. I am supposedly a happy-go-lucky undergraduate who “made it” through high school and is now cruising through this poster perfect life.

Two years ago, I had the same dream. When I visited, I was blinded by the beauty of Duke’s campus. I was enchanted by the students I spoke with, who were studying economics and history and everything in between but also wrote for a magazine and performed in a dance team. I was enamored by the pictures of students who daubed their faces with blue paint and was mystified by the strange tradition of tenting in K-Ville. To me, this place was absolute perfection, the pinnacle of society and human existence.

Two years later: I did it. I achieved the dream. But the picture perfect image of college has long melted away. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so lonely in such a beautiful place brimming with opportunity and amazing people. I feel like a ping pong ball, bouncing between different groups but not really fitting into one. I didn’t know I would be left behind in college’s fast-paced culture where everyone is supposedly “getting things done” and “making new friends every day.” Because, for someone who much prefers low-key movie nights of five over raging alcoholic parties of five hundred, but for someone who also always feels like they’re missing out when they see others “going out” and “having fun”, I feel like I’m a rubber band being pulled in a million different directions, about to snap into a million pieces.

I just need a break, I tell myself. I need to quiet the voice in my head that always complains how I’m wasting my time if I’m not socializing or doing work, whatever “socializing” and “ doing work” means. I need a weekend alone, wrapped in a blanket of thought. I need brisk fall weather, a morning sun and crunchy brown leaves. I just need some time alone.

If you liked this post, be sure to check out letters to myself.