An Affair to Remember

Around this time last year, colleges and universities from all around the country began the courting process. They tried to win me over through letters and e-mails telling me how "special and unique" I am. They claimed that they wanted to be a part of my life that I would treasure in the years to come. Basically, it was all a bunch of "b.s."

Those once endearing letters in the mail began to be a nuisance- a real pain in the you-know-what. Don't even get me started about the e-mails. No matter where they came from, they all had the same thing to say just in different words. Maybe I was playing hard to get, but I was not interested in being told of my "uniqueness" if the colleges didn't have anything to give back. Is that so wrong?

I got to the point where I'd just look at the envelope and toss it into the garbage. It was kind of fun , to be honest. UGA. Trash. Tech. Trash. University of Ohio. Trash. I could go on and on. But one day, something unexpected happened. An untouched envelope laid in a stack of dejected "junk" mail that would never be opened. Just as I was about to throw it away, I noticed the address read Boston, MA. Curiosity got the better of me. Skeptically, I tore the envelope. Hesitantly, I read the contents expecting the same-old same-old. Boy was I surprised.

People Watching Clubs, lobster dinners, and a Quidditch team to top it off. How could I not be in love? The spark was there. Boston University and I had immediate chemistry. Over the weeks and moths that followed, I eagerly pursued after BU. I had to know more. It made me giddy and nervous to think that I might have found something I could see myself committing to in such a huge way. My first meeting left me with butterflies and a case of cold feet. Maybe I wasn't ready for this after all. But, as they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder, and I began to pine for Boston, so much so I dragged my mom and grandmother up there in the record setting rain during March. It was cold. It was wet. I LOVED it.

The city held such a charm over me like I had never known. Big city life, clean atmosphere. I must have seemed like I knew what I was doing because my first night there a Harvard Med student asked me for directions on the subway. Coincidence or fate? There wasn't that overwhelming, touristy sense of awe and excitement that I had felt the first time I visited New York City. It felt it natural. It felt like home.

Now the application process is upon me. I know in my heart where I'd like to be, but Boston and I may be no more than star-crossed lovers. Regardless of what happens, it was an affair to remember.