our own expectations

dear higher education,

please,

consider us a mutual friend.

I've been eagerly anticipating your inevitable arrival

for as long as I can remember.

you and I, we go way back.

my parents told me stories of you.

of freedom,

of enlightenment.

of pizza and pranks and goldfish and

even something 

that looked like love.

polaroids of you 

are tucked away within musty photo albums

in the dark hallways of my mind.

waiting.

for the day that I would come of age.

but now that you are here, 

I recognize that what looked like love

if you squinted a little, also appeared to be fear.

I am so afraid.

what if you are nothing like I expected?

what if you are too much

an explosion to my timid touch

I don't know if I can handle it all.

but somehow, maybe,

if we

lock eyes.

nod.

and step forward.

boldly but not blindly.

we can create

our own

expectations.

looking forward to finally meeting you,

Jordan.