to our seniors, with love

your last weeks at gu-q are not how you imagined them to be 

and it’s true,

because this isn’t how it’s supposed to be:

classes held online, 

the building empty, 

and all of us separated from each other 

it’s a bittersweet end to your four years,

and my heart aches with you 

if the atrium could speak, do you think it would call out our names, 

and sing the same song of sadness we mark our days with?

i went to campus for the first time since february, 

but i did not expect to go home feeling so sad and defeated.

all i could think about was how much bigger it felt

without the warmth of everyone enveloping me

(happiness, after all, feels heavier when you carry it alone)

some things have changed in our absence.

spring rains toppled the low hanging tree lining the entrance to our building, 

and the card readers were removed from the vending machines.

other things have stayed the same:

our countries’ flags continue to color our atrium walls, 

and the building is still freezing 

the setting sky at 5 pm is still breathtaking,

the hills outside still stand tall and green,

and the birds go on flying and chirping, 

only there are less people to appreciate them 

still, i count our blessings:

we have each other, despite it all.

our community shows up for each other.

and though things are not how they used to be,

we carry on, leaning on each other, 

and trusting that all will be well with time.

to our seniors, i say: the days are not yet over.

gu-q waits for you,

patiently and lovingly anticipating your return,

for your voices to ring loud within its halls and your laughter to fill the air

and even when the day has long passed since you graduated,

know that gu-q will always be your home.