Dear TUFW: don’t go!

I can’t believe TUFW is closing.

In the back of my mind—this is how painfully hopeful the world inside my brain is—as long as the school was there, we were all still somehow connected. At least there was a building and a lot to prove we ever were, and a dorm over by the woods off Lexington hanging onto a hopeless panicky eighteen year-old version of me, and a dorm next to the old cafeteria that always feels like a giant hug when I picture it inside. Two windows to the right of the door, on the second floor, is where I realized there was a chance I might be smart and capable and not crazy at all, but loved, actually. It changed my trajectory.

I feel like part of our history is disappearing. It’s the only place that ever felt like home; a place I can walk into even 5 years later and take a hopeful breath. One time someone loved me here, is what I think when I walk inside.

I’m so sorry for the staff and faculty being uprooted and displaced. I just can’t imagine:
A- how shocked and sad and uncertain everyone must feel
B- not being able to stop in and say hey to Dr. Cook or James or Tami whenever I secretly need to touch down on home base for a sec.

It’s heartbreaking on all accounts.

When I don’t feel so strange, I’ll do some kind of hilarious best memories post. But for now I just want to go home and hug people, and then pee on the library for old times’ sake.


Dear TUFW: don’t go!