So many memories I want to hold on to, but then there are some memories I wish never even existed. I hate myself when I do something I know I shouldn't be doing but do it anyway.

I look around the apartment now and all I see are packed suitcases, everything I own are slowly being put away so that I can get on with my life after college. Every corner, every inch, every little thing I hold and have has a memory of some sort.

The fridge that was almost never used, the Palestinian posters and religious books that were basically collecting dust, but let me feel a little closer to home, the pots and pans that have been with us through thick and thin....taking two hours to make a chicken salad, attempting to cook some rice, only to end up eating rice-soup (if there really is such a thing). The little presents and cards that I received from the people I've had the honor to meet over time. The layers of clothes we would put on when the temperature was below 75, or if we were going to spend an all-nighter on campus studying. The shoes that walked with me for endless hours late at night. The jacket that let me enjoy the walk in the rain, without getting a lot of my clothes wet. The big signed card that kept me well grounded to who I really am and who my friends and family are, the wine opener and the poor 99 cent spoons, knives, and forks that spent good times and bad times with us. The blankets that kept us warm at any time of the day. The certificates and letters from co-workers and managers. Even the stupid teddy bear that the stalker got me...as much as I hate what he has done to me, and I really hate the teddy bear...it brings back memories. It was the time that I found out who my true friends were, the time when I found out that you have no one in  this world but yourself, and that no one will ever believe you unless things truly get out of hand. It let me realize that I can handle pressure and juggle a whole bunch of tasks at the same time, it also taught me to keep my mouth shut no matter how bad things go...

So many horrifying memories are either here in California or in Pennsylvania, and as much as I hated what has happened to me at different times, the truth of the matter is, the good memories exceed the bad ones. My stay here has helped me grow in more ways than one. I know I've been waiting for this day to come for years now...but now that it's here, I'm not sure I'm ready for it, I'm not sure I'm ready to let the people I know and the times I've spent with them become a memory. I'm not sure I'm ready to take the next step in life.

I think of all the endless possibilities that await me at home, but then I remember the challenges. I think one of the main things I'm worried about, the one thing that scares me is the idea of confrontation. There are so many people that I must confront...the guys that I must sit down with and explain that they need to let go .. because I have ... to disappoint those who thought we may have a future, or those who believed we were going to be friends forever. I'm not who I was, and I realize that I've been talking to them over the phone for so long, but the closer I get to go back home, the more I realize that I do not want to go back and see them. I want to get serious in life. I can't live their life-style anymore, I'd prefer not to. I want to get more serious with my life..I really do, maybe I'll finally find my prince charming. Perhaps after all this time and all this frustration, maybe I'll find someone that will prove me wrong about all these myths about love and marriage, about compatiability.

I wish I could start a new life. I wish I could go back in time and live my life all over. Time after time, every now and then I think about what I've done in my life, the good times, the bad times, the hard times...and I realize that as much as they hurt at the time, they helped me...but then I realize what hurts me even more than the thought of the struggling that I had to go though...what hurts the most is the idea that my days are passing by, my moments are being lived and forgotten, my life is passing by right infront of my eyes, and I can't do anything about it. It scares me to know that I don't have much time left, it hurts me to know that my days are being spent without being able to help anyone help themselves, or at least help an bring a smile to somebody's face. It's been years since I've been to an orphanage or a facility for physically and mentally challenged people, it's been years since I've given back to society...and it's killing me more and more every day. Did I enjoy my few years? Yes, of course I did, but I had even a better time giving back to the world while having a good time myself.

I want to go to Palestine, South Africa, I want to go to the ends of the world to make the impossible happen, I know that I can't do anything on my own, but I want to die knowing that I at least helped one person - whether it be a smile on a young child's face, lending a hand to a homeless man, listening to an older person, or just being a crying shoulder to someone who needs it. I want to die knowing that I was honest with myself as I try to be with others.

Life ... it's a painful, joyful experience. No experience is a bad experience...it's simply a learning experience.