Glimmer

Monday, Feb. 05, 2007 @ 4:42 p.m.

By now, the phrase "I miss French Fitch" coming out of my mouth probably sounds like a broken record. I wish I could get used to living life on my own again sooner, but I can't speed things up no matter how hard I try.

I received news late last week that one of my graduate school applications was successful. Starting this fall I will be a doctoral student at UCLA!! It's wonderful news, and I'm ecstatic about it... but once again, even in such a jubilant moment as this, I still feel like something is missing.

When I received the acceptance letter for my undergraduate college, French Fitch was right there with me as I opened it. I jumped, screamed, cried tears of joy, and almost passed out from hyperventilation. French Fitch was overjoyed for me as well, and cried tears of joy himself as he hugged and kissed me over and over again. After the exciting news, I went to classes... and when I came back, French Fitch had ballons, champagne and a card waiting for me at home. It was so wonderful celebrating such a happy moment in my life with someone who really loved me and cared about my life so much.

Contrast that to last week, when I came back to an empty home after having received yet another life-changing piece of news. No balloons, no champagne, no card, not even someone to hug and share the news with. I told my friends - whatever few friends I have left - who were of course happy for me, but none as much as French Fitch would be. Not dissing those friends at all, but French Fitch was just such a huge part of my life who understands the real me a lot better.

So it's been bittersweet. After a lot of hesitation, I decided to share the news with French Fitch, who was of course overjoyed for me. Yet, it's still not the same. But when I talked to him, memories of the last time I received an acceptance letter came rushing back to me... it was like a refreshing dose of morphine.

But I must admit, having such an extraordinary piece of news (only 3% of all applicants get admitted after all - *ahem*) has been quite a catalyst for my recovery. For the first time in almost 3 weeks, I actually have positive feelings and finally see that it's not the end of the world even though French Fitch is gone.

For the first time in 3 weeks, I realize that I'm going to be alright. I may have lost the love of my life, but I have not lost my future... which has now just received a monumental boost for the better.

It's still going to be painful for a while longer, but I'm going to be alright.

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