One by one, the lights of classrooms flicker out, the doors close, and the gates lock. The semester is finished; it’s time to leave. Classes are done for the day. No more uncomfortable plastic chairs and unreasonably cold rooms. Do you even remember the first time you sat in the Pavilion or when you figured out that the Library’s second floor had romance novels? 

The four or more years spent in these golden halls, they weren’t always joyful nor was the despair ever-present. That was all just part of the journey, wasn’t it? Every ups, downs, confusing turns, and endless stairs. It was all so exhausting, yet boundlessly fulfilling.

Take one last walk through the smoke-filled corners of Lerma. Just one more meal in the canteens and one more gossip with the friends you made along the way. Won’t you give the cats a parting snack and pets?

The stickers on your laptop will scratch off and the button pins on your ID lace will begin to rust. A select few of the souvenirs you’ve collected from your journey, do you think you’ll ever get to wear the school spirit shirts again? Maybe not. Maybe it’ll collect dust in your closet or at your parents’ house. The logo will peel off and you might outgrow them but one day, years from now, you’ll see it in the bottom of a moving box. Maybe then, everything will come rushing back and you’ll realize—you survived. Everything got better. You powered through the hard times and you’re still alive.

It’s cold in your seat, but let the warmth of the toga be your sliver of hope. Everything will be okay. You survived playground accidents, you wiped blood from your knees, and you stood right back up. You survived the high school heartaches, powered through the emotional roller coaster, and still chose to love once more. You doubted your chosen major and sought comfort in a shot of vodka or two, but now you’re standing under the spotlight with a degree. The same degree you cried for, the very same one you almost gave up on.

The lessons are over, yet you’ve got so much more to learn. It won’t be printed on textbooks for you to pore over. It’ll be in the people you’ve yet to meet, with lives far different or maybe even similar to yours. What if it’s in the people you once studied with, who might be a little different from the last time you saw them? Or perhaps you’ll be the one giving little tidbits of wisdom to others, you’ll never know.

Maybe still, it won’t get easier, but this is your proof that you can survive beyond these happy halls. You fought like hell for this moment. Now, live for it.

- Beatrice Diane D. Bartolome
(Illustration by Alexandra Lim/FEU Advocate)