My love for Choate came slowly — an unhurried, tentative process that ebbed and flowed like waves. On more than one day during these last three years, I would have done anything to see Jakarta’s jumbled skyline instead of the order of red-brick academic buildings. I felt suffocated by the quietness of my surroundings and overwhelmed by the responsibilities asked of me. But, it was easy to fall in love with Choate after every Saturday night dinner at Sirinan’s; every night spent crying within the warm confines of my roommate’s arms; every rant about another impossible assignment with my SRP classmates; every revolutionary English discussion; every cookie Dr. Chen Lin baked; every scolding for being too loud in the library; every impromptu trip to Walmart; every sentimental email I wrote to a teacher who has changed my life; and every time I realized Choate gave me friends who are so inspiring.
I loved Choate — but my love only blossomed to its extreme as my time here came to an end. All events in life are so fleeting and delicate. None of us will ever be in the exact same place or time again. Although futile, it is human nature to cling onto the familiar — to the memories of a moment once lived. I, myself, yearn to do everything I loved about Choate just once more. I will have to summon the courage to let go of a place that has given me so much in so little time; but in the meantime, I will dream about the unsaid thank-you’s, missed farewells, and all the beautiful souls I’ve met.
