Enter apathy.

So, I haven't even been out of school for one week, and already I feel the apathy sinking in.

The buzz from graduation has since faded away, though I constantly find myself in periods and moments of disbelief that all of this is really over. But now -- now is the rest of my life, and though I'm eager to get places, I'm afraid of not getting exactly where I want to be.

And as I type this, the phrase "There are many paths to success" comes to mind. So far, my plans to get ahead and get started with my life have already been diverted. And it seemed like such a catastrophe to me. And I know it's not the end of the world -- school will be there in the fall, and I will always have my writing. I don't lose anything by taking time.

And still, how is it possible that I'm not completely, 100% satisfied with my life? I'm on the right track -- I've been happy for so long. But without the daily routine of school and homework and projects and choir, what else has my life become? What else is it made of?

Some of you probably know about my escapades with my friends online, and how, freshman year, they saved my life. I miss them so much now -- four years after we first met. Out of over 20 people in my group, I only keep in touch with one of them. The others have drifted. Some have changed so much, I don't even know who they are anymore. Some I have never really gotten along with. Some I miss beyond comprehension.

And though that chapter in my life is over, I can't help but feel like a part of me is missing. Is it that every single time I sign on to AIM, my heart sinks because my buddy list is virtually empty -- because the people I used to live for haven't been around for years? Because I lost touch with them for so long that my friendships with them have faded, and we're stuck with lame ass small talk? Is it because I long so much to share my life and my accomplishments and my gratitude with them -- but they're not around for me to talk to them?

I'm happy -- so happy that my friends have found places in their lives where they feel comfortable and like they belong. That is what we were searching for four years ago that summer on Myspace. And it's not like I can do anything to stop them from living their lives the way they're meant to. But I miss them. So much.

They've been with me since my freshman year -- four years. That's longer than some of the "real" friendships I've had at school. And it hasn't hit me until recently just how long that was. But now we're all grown up. We're all mature; we're all on our own paths in our own lives, making our way to the future we've always imagined. Things will never go back to the way they once were.

And I don't know how I feel about that. I'm probably confusing you to death. I'm confusing myself to death. All I really know is that I feel empty when I should feel full -- apathetic when I should be energized. I don't feel right, and I don't know what I can do about it.

I look back at all of the IM conversations logged automatically onto my hard drive. The funniest; stupidest; most embarrassing conversations. Right there next to the drama; the heartbreak; the fights. The deep conversations, and ones when people weren't really there. I look back on all the friends I've made, all the memories I've shared, and realize that I have nothing to show for it except for a few logged IM conversations, and my own memory of having them. Where did they all go? And what are they doing now? Do they remember me? Do they still care?

The only thing I can feel is not the liberation and freedom of a well earned summer. It's the hollow emptiness of knowing the people I used to spend my summers with are no longer here. I hate this feeling. The feeling of hopeless nostalgia; of longing and missing and wishing times could be like they once were. But nothing -- nothing compares to the horrible, wasted, emptiness of knowing that I can never go back, and things will never be the same ever again.