Tristful

I love the way it smells here in the spring because it smells just like the day I moved in.

Spring in NE Indiana means thunderstorms. And especially this spring those thunderstorms are followed by intense, muggy heat. And that combination of heat and sunlight and wet concrete takes me back to freshman move-in day, when my journey here began. Even now, when I walk back into Livingston Hall in the early spring and late summer, it feels like nothing has ever changed. The building smells the same. It has the same shocking transition from muggy outside to chilly inside because our dear L-town has just delightful AC. And for just a moment, I'm that terrified freshman all over again. It takes my breath away sometimes, for just a split second. Then I see a familiar face or remember all that's happened in these walls and I'm ok. I'm not her anymore. I've grown. And I'm certainly not done growing, but this place has left an imprint on me that I will certainly never forget.


tristful
adj. deeply, yet romantically melancholy.