So the last 3 and 1/2 years I have been in a relationship with Graduate School. I like to call him Grad School for short. Just like any relationship, he was handsome at first and won me over. He resided on this beautiful campus called Saint Mary's College of California, and as soon as he accepted me, I moved to be with him. The first few months were blissful but a little rocky, as I adjusted to a new environment and the pressures of a new relationship. I didn't have too many friends here in the bay area, and I really missed my family and friends in LA. But I was committed to him. So I thought. As the months went on, things got harder. I had to spend a lot of time reading and researching because he always wanted me to be up on the latest and greatest. I got a job so I could have extra money outside of "financial aid" to support our habits- buying books, gas money to see him, and money for extra meals when I spent long nights out with him.
Then things started to go sour. Not so much with him, but in my life. I suddenly needed a new place to live. But Grad School couldn't help me. He was sorry and we took a break, about the length of a semester so I could get back on my feet. Next, I was in a car accident; nothing severe, but it made going to see him a complete pain. He was sorry then too, but he sure wasn't as accommodating as I wish he would have been. And of course there were other smaller things that happened to make me feel bitter sweet towards Grad School.
But I realized that I love him, I really do. It's the experience that he brings. I get to learn new things and meet new people. He allowed me experiences so I could learn about myself- and I think I have learned more about myself than about any topic he wanted me to read in a book. And yet he gets on my last nerve. This has been the most taxing almost 4 years ever. So many nights, I wanted to quit him, move home never to see him again, and erase these years from my memory. But for some reason, he was ever present, lingering in the shadows waiting for me to come back. I guess he always knew I would. He knew that beneath my calm, laid back demeanor was a fighter. Last semester Grad School asked me to fight for the chance to be with him. Someone tried to take him away from me. And he knew exactly what I would do; I would own up to not always wanting him, bad talking him, and mistreating him. But he also knew that I would say I still wanted to be with him and that I would see our relationship through.
So today here we are, back together. After all of that, I am so happy to be with him. Not because it is easy, but I missed him. I missed our good times. I missed all the things he could teach me when I left myself open. I missed all of the people he introduced to my life. I only have 3 classes or about a year left before our relationship runs it's course. It will be bittersweet when I finally do have to leave him. And even though many times he has been a pain in my side, he will be the one I can't forget: My boyfriend named Grad School.
If you are thinking about a man named Grad School, I suggest you think long and hard. He really is great, but he makes you work hard to be with him and reap the benefits of the relationship. He is no easy lover, but he rewards you with things you probably cannot think of. I could fill this page with the things Grad School did for me. But you will have to meet with Grad School, and see for yourself. I will tell you, he is one heck of a man.
xoxo,
Lasondra
Here is a picture of where my love Grad School lives, Saint Mary's College of California.
