My final year begins
Having abandoned you cruelly throughout the summer, I now return callously to update you on my perambulations and confirm that I am indeed alive and well. Please find it in you motorised cybic, lifeless heart to forgive me.
Yesterday I sped up the M40 eager to return to Warwick after having been absent for a year on my year out. I would be lying if I denied that it was an absolutely marvellous and remarkable experience. I am doubtlessly emotionally tied to Warwick now, which has witnessed many of my formative experiences – I have done much of my growing up here, much of it turbulent and painful – but equally Warwick is the backdrop of friendships and acquaintances, some of them fleeting while others long term. I am conscious, however, that I return as a maturer, more confident and stonger person in many ways. I feel a sense of belonging and it is with pride that I was able to give precise directions to newcomers yesterday ('yeah, to get to Costcutters just follow the road round to the right, you'll pass a large playing field on your left, then after you cross Medical Centre Road it'll be just where the Union buildings start, next along after Lazerlizard').
No longer am I hounded by the sense of fear and apprehension that overwhelmed me as a Fresher living away from home for the first time and my solitude in a seemingly boundless and impersonal campus. Once I arrived yesterday, driving my car right up to the grassy, sun drenched embankment outside Claycroft 2 to upack and arrange the masses of unecessary baggage I have accumulated I took a revitalising walk around campus. I bumped into half a dozen familiar faces just in the first two hours. In fact three of my co-residents of flat 22, Claycroft 2, including the person I will be sharing a bathroom with I knew already. At the kitchen table we talked and reminisced.
Such a far cry, I thought from the trials and tribulations that characterised my first year misery at Liberty Park, where I was dumped in a noisy cell with a view of a caprark alongside strangers miles from campus.
As I withdrew my curtains to find the sun rising over the dew covered verdure this morning I reflected positively about my dearest friend from Derbyshire who would be coming down later today to spend a couple of nights with me, and my future. I stepped into the kitchen and exchanged a cheerful 'good morning' with my flatmate and when the toast came out one side as black as a chimney sweep and the other as white as when I had sliced it from the loaf, I laughed.