My resume may claim I am quick to adapt to changing circumstances, but it definitely doesn’t apply to my personal life. I’ve never been a fan of change. Blue has been my favorite color since I was 5 and, when we moved from Mumbai to Bangalore, I threw such a hissy fit that my parents moved us back three years later. Sometimes change is unavoidable, and I have no choice but to move forward, but that doesn’t mean I am not kicking and grumbling along the way. 

In hindsight, I realize that I don’t always need to resist change since it can be beneficial. But, while experiencing the change, I am always filled to the brim with longing — longing for the past. I am writing this piece today because I am filled with the same longing right now, and I am scared of repeating the same mistakes.

As my junior year nears its end, I long for earlier college days. I yearn to be a sophomore or first-semester junior again and live in the sweet spot of being acclimated to college life but barely being able to make out the end lurking around the corner. 

I would give up wearing blue just to return to those days: binge-watching “Gilmore Girls” on my apartment’s comfortable couch, spending hours lazing at the beach during spring break and being fascinated by something I just learned. I want time to freeze while I experience it all over and over again. 

But, I am no Marvel superhero stuck in a time loop, so my life will change, irrespective of my best efforts. This has become more apparent to me recently when I realized I am not as in touch with my high school friends. We try, but we don’t really know what’s going on in each other’s daily lives anymore. And I know what you are thinking: “It’s natural after three years and just because you don’t speak daily, doesn’t mean you love each other less.” 

And you are right. I still love them and am grateful for them every single day, but for some reason, I have developed tunnel vision. I am only focused on wanting the friend I spend hours on a call with daily to drop me a text every few days. Our bond hasn’t changed in the bigger picture, but right now, I am struggling to see beyond the little one. 

This leaves me wondering if I am clinging too tightly and perhaps need to loosen my grip to let things play out how they are meant to be. But, I’m scared I’ll take it to an extreme and become complacent. What if I am a miserable childless 60-year-old surrounded by cats — and cats freak me out, so if I get cats, you know it’s bad — because I stopped fighting for what and who made me happy? What is the line between holding on and holding on too tightly?

I’m just spitballing here, but I guess it’s about how holding on feels. If you are constantly hurt about how your relationship is different from what it used to be, despite all your efforts, you are holding on too tightly. 

For experiences, instead of holding on to the past and not moving on, try to modify them to fit the current situation. It’s not completely the same, but I can buy another couch for my new apartment and invite my old roommates to binge a TV show together. I can explore other interests through new classes and find that joy in learning again. I can’t turn back the clock, but I can recreate the feeling.

Maybe, a year from now when I am selecting my cap and gown, I’ll check in with you about this. Maybe I will have been successful in toeing the line and holding on to what mattered. Or maybe I let go — forcefully or intentionally — and filled my life with even newer things that I will be even more nostalgic about in the future.

Edhita Singhal is a junior writing about life lessons she has learned in college in her column, “Thinking Out Loud,” which runs every other Wednesday.