As I face my final month at Miami, I must make my parting goodbyes to the university that now has my entire life savings.
Goodbye to construction. For four years, Miami told me that our most iconic features are our red brick buildings. However, I know in my heart nothing will be more memorable than the orange and yellow scaffolding that adorned at least one building every year.
Goodbye High Street, where a pedal on my bike broke and I left some of myself on the asphalt.
Goodbye to dorm bathroom lines at 7:30 a.m., where we all awkwardly stared at the poor resident trying to take a dump in peace (sorry, *name redacted*).
Goodbye being sexiled. Let’s be real freshman year roommate; it didn’t take all night.
Goodbye virginity. You left me freshman year on a twin bed in room 333, Tappan Hall.
Goodbye off-campus housing. You’ve won at life when you make rent Uptown cost as much as a semester’s worth of tuition yet no one bats an eye.
Goodbye Farmer School of Business, where I learned that the only thing you need to succeed is a $9.99 salad bowl.
Goodbye Pulley Diner. Your best feature was never the food. It was the drunk student trying to make conversation with a cop at 2 a.m.
Goodbye Withrow Starbucks. You started my addiction to overpriced coffee. Damn your well-done aesthetic-based capitalism.
Goodbye Bagel n’ Deli. Rumor has it you sell something other than the crunch n’ munch, but I don’t believe it.
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Goodbye RA job. You taught me how popular “resting” in the bathroom was at 3 a.m.
Goodbye Oxford Tinder, where I never again will blur the line between student and townie.
Goodbye girl who invited me to a date party, where at the pregame you threw up on me ... and I apologized.
Goodbye freshman year weed-out professor who responded to his miswriting a question with, “Sounds like a you problem.”
Goodbye formals. The thrill of awkwardly holding a drink in a nearly empty bar will never leave me.
Goodbye Uptown bars, where I learned that my drunken dance moves never looked as good on my snap story the next day.
Goodbye intramural soccer, where I learned yelling at the kid I just asked to take up space on the team may not be a good motivational tactic.
Goodbye Miami therapist. I liked you, but I couldn’t afford you after our third session.
Goodbye to my happiness. You left after my first college exam and have taken an extended vacation ever since.
Goodbye Miami Merger dream … and just love in general. You eluded me, just like my mother predicted.
In all seriousness, goodbye Miami. In four years, I learned a lot about myself, others and about what it means to be a Miamian. I know the things I gained here will last a lifetime; just like my pesky, crippling student debt.