Thirty Sunrises

Thirty Sunrises

obx sunrise

I want to preface this by saying that I am a brat.

Take a second to ingest that.

Good. Now.

I want to continue by saying that contrary to the overplayed anthem and my 11th grade anatomy teacher’s unsolicited advice… I don’t love college.

Remember when I told you I’m a brat? That statement’s holding true throughout this entire entry so remind yourself of it every time I say something that makes you want to punch me in the face.

This last semester of college has been… fine. It’s been more than fine. I did the whole spring break thing right after doing the whole 21-in-Vegas thing and am winding down to the last 6 weeks of working hard enough to get my degree with a big YOLO stamped on my forehead. It’s more than fine.

Okay. It’s not more than fine. It’s overwhelming. I’m overwhelmed.

And it’s mostly because life as I knew it has changed for good. I don’t have soccer anymore, which isn’t exactly a new revelation seeing season ended in November, but for some reason I’m just now noticing how gone it really is. I don’t have 5:45am alarm clocks that lead to lifting and fitness and cold cold cold and sleepy sleepy sleepy. That’s gone, which is fine because I don’t miss the 5:45 or the cold or the sleepy, but I certainly do miss the structure.

Soccer is over. The Hundred Project is done. I’m graduating. I don’t have a job yet (though with my applications sealed and delivered, I know that’s out of my control and at this point I just have to hope someone will be crazy enough to hire me). In the most overdramatic yet seemingly accurate way, my compass is broken and we’ve hit choppy waters. My balance is gone. I’m lost.

I don’t know, how do you explain to yourself and to the people you care about how dizzying life is sometimes? I have every reason to be happy, and am sincerely more than grateful for being as privileged as I am. I’m grateful for everything the university has given me and I consider myself beyond lucky. But I’ve gotten everything out of ECU and Greenville that I want and the mold no longer fits. I’m ready to move on, wherever onward may be.

But there are things I love about North Carolina, after all, it’s been home for almost four years now. I’ll miss it… I might even miss the struggle and the dissatisfaction because I very easily could fall into a new life with harder struggles and less satisfaction.

Beyond anything else though, the thing I’ll miss about North Carolina is its sky.

I don’t know what it is about the sky here but it compels and enthralls you without even trying. I can honestly say the best sunrises and sunsets I’ve seen are not those from the Malibu coast or from the middle of the ocean or from 30,000 feet in the air, but rather the ones right here in Greenville. It’s when I’m driving home from work and I catch it in the rear view mirror, or along highway 264 when it dances between the trees, or when I turn the corner at the top of my staircase and it fills my whole room in such a way that makes me feel like I’ve caught the sun in a jar. It’s cliché but I love it. I love every part of it.

I don’t want to miss any more than I already have. April is my last month here. It’s the last little part of my life that I can see from beginning to end (still rolling with the melodrama). I’ve been asking for a new beginning and I just realized I’ve been searching for the answers in all the wrong places. It’s not with my impending journalism career– that, as of right now, is out of my control. It’s not with soccer– that part of me has evolved and I can’t afford to live in the past. The answer is simple. If you want a new beginning, then wake up early and see it for yourself. Your new beginning happens every day.

So here’s the deal. I’m running this in conjunction with my version of the This I Believe series, which is a compilation of essays on various people’s simple philosophies. Every day gives us something new to believe in, so I’ll give you a picture of the awesome (or not-so-awesome) sunrise every day for the month of April, along with something I believe in. We’ll just have to hope the rest works itself out on its own.

3 thoughts on “Thirty Sunrises

  1. Christiane,

    I am so glad to see more of your writing in my inbox. I have mentioned this blog to soooo many people last year its ridiculous. I’m totally with you on the end-of-college boat, It’s tough to believe we’re all graduating, but you’re so smart, talented and driven that I can’t wait to see where you end up.

    Sorry that this is totally random/mildly creepy but KEEP WRITING. Seriously. I am a HUGE fan.

    – Michael

  2. That means so much to me, Michael– thank you. So crazy to think we’re graduating but I’m sure these transitional growing pains are going to be well worth it. Good luck as you wrap things up, hope to hear from you again soon!


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