I wrote this memoir as my final paper for a philosophy class during one of the most pivotal times in my life, my last semester as an adult undergrad at Cornell University.
It encapsulates, sometimes in an esoteric fashion, the primary emotion that I was finally working through with success — regret.
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SNEEK PEEK BELOW
With my car beginning its descent into the outskirts of town, a slight squeamish pang of nervousness overcame me. Joking, I told my boyfriend that I had changed my mind.
To say that finishing my undergrad education at Cornell University was a dream come true is too cliche for my taste. It was more like merging onto a road that I missed several miles back when I veered the other way.