I’ve been feeling reflective lately. Blame this on impending graduation if you want (it’s what I blame it on), but the point is I’m reflective. And this crazy thing happens when I’m feeling reflective…I tend to spend more time thinking about this novel. I know, I don’t understand it either. You’d think that feeling reflective would cause me to, you know, reflect. On my life. On my friends. On my memories. On every little thing that is going through my head as I’m nearing the end of my college career. I dunno, maybe I’m just weird.
The reason I think this happens, especially with this particular story, is that the entire novel is reflective, in a way. It’s past versus present. It’s showing how Liz (my lovely main character who has more issues than I can possibly understand, honestly) is so deeply effected by her cult experiences that she still dwells on them fifteen years down the road. So…I start feeling reflective about whatever, which leads me to think “hey, this is what happened in my life five…ten…fifteen years ago. These were the experiences I had. These were the friends that mattered. And five…ten…fifteen years from now I can look back to this moment and remember THESE experiences and THESE people and, god willing, they’ll all still be in my life.” Behold, my thought process.
And, yeah, my memories are about a million times cheerier than Liz’s. But that reflection causes me to reflect on Liz’s reflection and it’s really just a vicious cycle.
My sorority, Alpha Xi Delta, had its annual Academic Banquet last night. It’s the last “official” chance for the younger sisters to say goodbye to the seniors. There will still be chapter meetings and functions and social events and banquets for the next month, but at none of those is the opportunity set aside to bid farewell. I truly do hope these ladies will still be in my life five, ten, fifteen years down the road. That’s one of the biggest differences between Liz and me–she can’t let go of her past no matter how desperately she wants to erase it. I don’t want to erase my past, and fifteen years from now I’m still not going to want to.