As I reluctantly boarded the plane and looked for a safe spot in which to stow my precious fiddle, I realized how familiar the inside of these immense in-betweens had become to me. It makes sense I suppose, it was the seventh plane I’d been on since leaving from Chicago in January. I’ve changed in so many ways. Four months ago, airplanes seemed fairly new and mildly intimidating, but this semester they’ve become a welcome means, always leading either to places packed with potential, or back to the cosy little island that had quickly become home. As I found my seat and took a last look at the hills quilted with every shade of green, I had to fight down a growing aversion to this particular plane for insisting on taking me away from the four best months of my life thus far. Goodbyes are just one more thing to add to a rapidly lengthening list of New.

Somehow, in the three days that I’ve been home, I haven’t been able to file “Spring of ’12” into it’s place aside the other semesters of my four years in college. Ah, but that’s probably because it’s not a file but a chapter, and it can’t be filed away because of course, we have to keep reading. And as hard as it is to turn the page, I’ll do it. Because the story continues. Because the following pages can’t help but be changed by what happened in the previous chapter. Because you never know when formerly familiar characters, places, and ideas will unexpectedly reappear throughout an intricately twisted plot.


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