Another turn of the page.

It always seems to be that, whenever I come to some critical moment in my life (and I happen to be near a computer), I blog about it. Because my words of mouth suddenly become ill-equipped to bear the turmoil of emotions I'll oft experience at those times. There I'll be, seated in my bedroom, staring blankly at my walls. Walls that -if they could talk - might spill their lifetime of stories. But they cannot; and therefore, they make for terrible conversation. Which then leaves my computer.

As many (I use that term loosely, as I doubt my readership could sum to "many") of you already know, I walked those final steps of my undergraduate career at the University of Maryland just a few weeks ago. I was "honored" in two different ceremonies along with my other classmates, although the ceremonies themselves hardly amounted to anything for us as we were all still in shock. We had worked our asses off up until the last day, and then just hours later sat in the basketball stadium, listening to speakers herald our accomplishments and advise us of the future. They spoke to warn and inspire, hoping that if at least a small portion of us listened to their words, we could truly become successful. And their hopes were partly fulfilled, as I remember several almost-graduates around me poke their heads up and look forward, while others chatted with friends or napped (in such ceremonious attire, at least). But before we could blink our eyes, our undergraduate careers closed behind us to the thunderous applause of our parents, and we were ushered out the doors of that stadium - probably never to return again as an undergrad (there were a few, myself included, that still bit their nails waiting for those last grades to appear online).

At the finish of my last ceremony, I stumbled outside to find friends hugging loved ones, who smiled and gave them their congratulations. I found my own family squinting in the sun and with relieved looks on their faces - I'm sure my parents both let out a "thank God" at some point. Packs of people walked on to concessions with their schools. Some headed out to dinner with family and friends. Bodies piled into cars, and doors slammed shut. And with that slam they were suddenly gone.

My comrades of 2009, most of whom I had never known, were off unto the next part of their lives. They would most likely vanish from my sight for years to come, and probably from my memory. The most unfortunate part about it all, though, was that I would not truly recognize our departure from each other until weeks later, when once I again I stared at my walls. With half my apartment gone, and the last part to leave in a few days as I spend vacation time with family on the beach. I am powerless to stop it, and it had taken me too long to realize it was happening.

I would be lying if I said I was sad to see all of them go. I respected all those who I was fortunate enough to meet at Maryland, but that does not necessarily mean I liked all of them. But then that smaller portion of my class of thousands - the ones I had made friends with and hung-out with and laughed with - they are leaving just as quickly. My roommate of three years, my original dorm friends, my fraternity and sorority friends, my band friends, my aerospace friends. They are all off to new adventures, be it the working world, graduate school, or traveling and volunteering. And the hardest part is dealing with the uncertainty of whether I'll ever get to see them again, or at least say good-bye and good luck.

So I'll say it now, in hopes that this will someday reach them and they'll get my well-wishes.

Good-bye, dear friends. You've all managed to shape a part of my life, and I hope in some way I was able to do the same. You may be unsure of your future as of now, or you may be more certain than you've ever been. Either way, I know you'll be successful in some light. Know that our bad decisions are just as important as our good ones, as long as we learn from them. Mistakes mark the path of achievement, and we'll probably see our share of pot-holes ahead.

Technology is a mysterious thing, in that we live in a world where communication can occur on so many different levels and at so many different times. It's for this reason that I doubt many of us will lose touch, although the time when we do touch each other again - whether to shake hands or hug or kiss - is more uncertain. But know that if you ever stumble through my city or town, wherever I may be, I would love to see a friendly face again. You are as real to me now as you've ever been, and the chance to make you real again in the future would mean the world to me.

So good-bye, good friends. Thanks for the memories and emotions, the bruises and scars. Thanks for the blurry nights and the side-stitches.

Thanks for everything. And good luck.