Five Minutes

Written by Christopher chun

Five minutes. 

It’s five minutes until you touchdown and embrace what comes after reaching the goalpost— the next goalpost. Well, what do you do? Do you march cavalier onwards or peek your head back and see what led you to this moment? 

Well, I was never a fan of reminiscing. It brings back disjointed and undisciplined memories of the so-called “good times,” but I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try to reflect. Throughout my time at this university, I have accomplished what I have sensibly constructed as the correct path to follow. I have connected with kind and sensible personalities, held titles that I wouldn’t dream of seeing next to my name, and I have seemingly all done it within the span of minutes. I could shut my eyes and I would be back in my old dormitory bed listening to my former roommate deconstruct the abstract principle of religiosity, the confines of engineering coursework, and what place we’d have to see before Christmas break. 

Frightening or endearing, this all seemingly happened simply minutes ago to me. 

The nights studying, well better defined as unfortunate cramming, blend into a homogenous euphoric feeling of “I did it.” The foolish outings with friends melt into a smile on my face. Blurry or clear, the memories I forged decorate the inner walls of my camera roll. Now, the next thought pops into forebrain: What do I do with these next five minutes before the next goalpost?

Not a clue.

However, here’s what I am doing in the meantime: I wake up grateful that I get to see close friends readily, I stroll to campus and romanticize the places I have seen hundreds of times, and I try to smile as much as I can. Because the two things I do know for certain are that it cannot last forever and I am going to stretch these last five minutes, before the hour hand strikes.