For Freshmen. By Freshmen.
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Jan 10 2018
by D.M. Carcamo

A Letter To 2018

By D.M. Carcamo - Jan 10 2018

Dear 2018,

You’ve come. You’re here. You’ve already begun. Despite what I’d like, I can’t ignore you, or that high school is over, or that I’m an adult. I can’t ignore that I’m already on my second quarter of college and have three more years to go. Worst of all, I know I really can’t ignore you because I know you won’t wait for me to get over 2017. I guess I’ll start facing you here and now in this letter.

Don’t give me that look. Some people are bold, brave, but I’m not like them. I’m just a girl thrust into a new chapter in her life without warning. Cut me some slack. You should be happy I’m even facing you at all.

As I was saying, I’ve got some things to say- to write- to you. Here’s your heads up. Despite the impression you got from 2017, you won’t be in charge. No, you won’t be catching me by surprise. I’m prepared this time around. I’m prepared to take my life into my hands. I am completely prepared to face all the hurdles you’ve concocted and have a certificate in dealing with the unexpected, from not getting to my dream college to a summer of my grandparents’ hospitalizations. No, 2018, not even in your wildest dreams will you be able to tear me down. So there you go; don’t test me. Actually, I take that back. Test me. Test me all you’d like, and see me ace each obstacle you put in my way.

Now, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me: I’m not usually so demanding, but I know that I must set the tone of our relationship before you go and pull something like 2017 did. Maybe you didn’t hear about it. I’ll explain. 2017 was a good and bad year, the best and the worst. It had lots of wonderful moments, like meeting my new college friends, visiting Yosemite again and doing well my first quarter of college, but 2017 also hit me in the face lots of times. I think I may still have a bruise.

2017 was the year I stopped playing the cello when my grandfather’s health declined. I remember sitting in the emergency room alone, waiting, waiting for news, hoping that maybe a friend would call. Maybe they’d ask how I was doing, and I’d tell them that I really needed to talk to somebody. In the end, the only person who contacted me was a guy asking me to fix his resume.

2017 was the year when my grandmother went in and out of the hospital during August and September. Right after my first day of college, I remember going to visit my grandmother in the ICU fighting tears.

2017 was the year I realized that maybe I didn’t have as many friends as I thought. As I wandered my college campus, simultaneously happy and sad, I thought about all the people who I’d kept chasing. They’re my friends, I’d tell myself, of course, I’m going to try to keep in touch. I’d excuse their absence and disinterest in my life saying, They just started college. They must be busy.

So, yes, 2018, 2017 had a lot of slaps in the face. Please excuse my forwardness, my demands. But this year you will be different from your predecessor. You won’t be taking me by surprise the way 2017 did. That’s why I started you differently. I’ve started playing my cello again after six months of silence. I’ve deleted my old contacts. I’ve started pursuing secret dreams. I’ve decided to get on with life, before the train moves on. I’m done ignoring you, and I’m going to face you now before you get any ideas.

2018, you are my year, and I will make the best of you. You are part of my new beginning. Salut, my new friend, salut.

Better than before,

Desiree Carcamo

P.S. I’ll thank you in advance for all the adventures and tears and laughs and friends and memories you’ll bring. I promise to cherish them all, even if you do try to pull a 2017.

P.P.S. I enclosed a post card to you. I really have started you off well.

Desiree Carcamo

Lead Image Credit: Pexels

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D.M. Carcamo - University of California, Riverside

D.M. Carcamo loves animals, people and creativity. When not daydreaming, you can find her adventuring and creating @dmcarcamo_. She is Senior Editor on Fresh U.

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