I drove through the college town in my state. The college town is the one town with the big university that all the kids you wanted a “good” education but couldn’t afford to go elsewhere went. College town. In my town it’s littered with a cacophony of noises and high rise apartment complexes and IHOP restaurants and girls wearing cut off jean shorts and tank tops.
It’s the kind of place you go to and know that it will always bring you back to the place when you were living there in that place. It’s the kind of place that is rich with air, made thick with the anticipation of what will next be.
It’s the kind of place that you go to and are reminded of what you once thought would be but that isn’t actually, currently.
I think for some reasons, I believed that when I graduated from my first alma mater that the university would somehow miss me, like an old lover who you’ve dumped, broken up with, and moved on. Or, at least that’s what I imagined it would be.
But, in going back, you see that he or she has moved on, quite well. That he or she is now very good with his or her new lover.
That’s what it’s like going back to your alma mater.
In an instant, you discover that you were one of many, that your dreams that fueled your drive in English 101 did not die when you left.
There’s no place like it.
What feelings do you feel in returning to your alma mater? Do you even return? If so, why?