Deep down inside even the most unbelieving of cynics, lives a romantic.

Someone who believes against all the odds, with the worst of curveballs, detours and poor lucks of the draw, that love will conquer all.

For those who know me best, writing my last piece for The Appalachian about love won’t come as a surprise in the least.
I’ll go as far to say anyone who has talked to me for more than 30 minutes, actually.

For better or for worse, I’ve been one of those rare and probably somewhat crazy individuals who believes the greatest tool and gift we’ve been given is the ability to love and to be loved.

And while I’m still waiting for a mister to be worth the trouble and risk of a relationship, I can’t say I haven’t fallen in love in college.

In fact, I’ve been in a love/hate relationship with The Appalachian for three years. It was quite serious for a while, and now I’m sad to say, it’s about time to part ways.

Working for Student Publications and thus giving away my free time, sanity, grades and functioning ability to a twice weekly newspaper since the moment I stepped on this campus was a sacrifice.

I gave up possible relationships, put friendships aside, let go of other club affiliations and decided my heart belonged to The Appalachian, and to The Appalachian alone.

Regardless of the ups and the downs we had, at the end of the day—or rather each Tuesday or Thursday around noon, I always felt that flutter in my stomach when I saw the finished product, and I knew I somewhat made a difference in one of college’s most well-known staples.

While this relationship isn’t ending quite like I hoped it would (I never really thought the newspaper could afford a diamond ring or a penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side), it’s ending with bittersweet memories and lessons I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

In a lot of ways, The Appalachian opened me up to styles of love I never quite knew existed. And certainly not the ones I read about in fairytales.

The Appalachian taught me to love change. To realize that Newton’s Law will always prove true, and that transforming is necessary for productivity. That skills will never be completely perfected and practice is mandatory to be competitive.

It taught me to love teaching, and that the greatest compliment you can be given is seeing someone excel who once sought advice from you.

It taught me to love learning, and to always search for more information, for a different angle or for a source you never thought would give you exactly what you needed.

The Appalachian taught me to love the smaller things life has to offer, and to see beauty in every outcome and experience. Regardless if it’s late night production with Daylight Donuts or trips to Raleigh that take nearly six hours…one way.

The Appalachian taught me to love someone just as they are, and that only with each working part of a publication is success possible.

It taught me to love an intense challenge, regardless if it’s emotional, physical, spiritual or career-oriented. Its led me to believe the most unexpected changes, bumps in the road and hardships make us who we are, and give us the best opportunities.

Those are opportunities we never thought were possible, and probably wouldn’t have taken advantage of if something didn’t mess up the tentative plan we all make for ourselves.

It gave me the chance to meet, date and fall in love with the city that will always represent the best summer experience of my life, and hopefully the next stepping-stone in my career.

It led the way to an ungodly amount of internships, all of which have left me with a tremendous amount of debt, and even more possibilities.

It introduced me to a campus and community I’ve grown to love, and saved me a ridiculous amount of money with free printing and food from various Plemmons Student Union events (Thank you, CSIL).

It taught me to love the uncertainty that life has to offer, and that sometimes the last chapter is really just the first chapter of the most fascinating part of your life.

It taught me to love and appreciate balance within my life.

From those who always made me laugh with YouTube videos to catching a grammatical mistake five minutes to deadline when the stakes are high, I learned to love humor and pair it with professionalism.

But above all other lessons, and with a lot of hard work and quite a bit of relationship counseling, The Appalachian taught me to love myself.

It taught me with or without $400 shoes or an address on Park Avenue or an incredibly handsome boyfriend, I can stand my ground, and I can be successful.

Even though I may fail, falter or stray away, I still have the skills this relationship taught me to take wherever I go or whatever publication I’m lucky enough to write for.

The family I have, from Lifestyles lovers to an Editorial Board I’ll never forget, and those who have already graduated from the pages of The Appalachian, will always remain a part of who I am, and what has ultimately made me…me.

And while I’m not quite ready to make it Facebook official that The Appalachian and I are going our separate ways, I leave this publication knowing the days ahead of it won’t be easy, but will shine through with a new leadership, youth and perspective.

Thank you, The Appalachian for the thrills, the lonely nights, the warm blankets, the friendship, the companionship, the chance to learn and for being my home-away-from-home.

I promise to always think of you lovingly, and remember, it’s not you. It’s me.

It’s the me you made me.

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