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❤️
If there’s one moment that created my belief in fate, it’s when my dearest friend Wilhelm Ramirez and I graduated side by side.
Our existential angst-despair had us skipping the grad form deadline as the world reckoned with the rage of a pandemic that was only warming up in its wrath.
Soon, our need for validation caught up and got me filling the form.
As my housemates sipped mimosas to spice up the process of being validated by an on-screen virtual grad ceremony, some of us gave up hope on seeing our faces at all, since they didn’t come under our department.
Wilhelm graduated in business, and I in journalism and creative writing — our majors and departments were as far away as they could possibly be.
Just when we’d given up hope, the screen started announcing the leftover undergrads, whose procrastination prevented them from being clubbed under their departments.
My rush to fill the form had me filling my name in reverse and the thrill swept over: I was graduating with my favorite person by my side on screen, and next to me on the couch — two department-less faces attached to names brought together by fate.
Still, this was nothing compared to Bailey’s commemoration — a face floating into the unknown, without a department or name.
Anyway, thank you for following me down this memory lane. Please look away now, as the crushing wait of nostalgia calls.
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