My roommates point at the window. Look outside, they say. It’s all white, everything is white. The snow is coming down fast. But this is not the first snow we wanted, not how we wanted it. I’m sorry you had to leave. And I’m sorry you had to leave the way you did. But where did you go? You didn’t tell us anything about it. How could you? You couldn’t have known.

Maybe if everything happened ever so slightly differently, we would have spoken to each other. During our sophomore or junior year, we would have been friends. Maybe this semester, too. Anyway, I’m sorry we all left for home in less than a day, left collegetown without leaving a card outside your room. I’m sorry you won’t be able to walk through the Van Wickle gates again, but if we can, we’ll walk through them twice: Once for us and once for you.

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Returning home for winter break was bittersweet, like knowing how to ride a bike and still liking the safety of the training wheels. I’m not who I was my first semester, but I’m not who I was before it either. It’s an odd feeling, really. To have neither size of shoe fit you, yet know that you still have to choose a pair and keep walking. I no longer show up to class in flip flops with my hair undone. I don’t shy away from applying concealer either. I laugh while speaking to strangers and tell them I have no idea how to play cricket, that I don’t mind learning how to, that it doesn’t matter to me as much as it used to. I no longer miss my 9 a.m.s and I suddenly go to bed at a not-so-late time. A lot changed over winter break, and I don’t know why I suddenly care so much about things I never paid attention to. It feels different; is it bad that it feels good?

It was nice meeting my high school friends again, as though so much time had passed, yet none at all. We sat together, half-watching whatever was playing on the TV and half-talking, with someone saying we should do something, play a game or something, yet no one moving. I spent Christmas with my best friend again, we spoke about the same things again. How we became friends because of a book series, when we all went swimming together during a storm, our college promises to each other. Some of my friends have changed, too. A few things for the better and a few things for the not-so-better. It’s okay, though. I should welcome change. Still, it’s funny to think about. To think how just one semester can change someone so much, so little, and sometimes, not at all.

Now my friends make fun of me for saying “c-a-a-n-t” instead of “c-a-n-t,” “f-a-a-s-t” instead of “f-a-s-t.” When did you become such a south-dilli-type-ladki? Itne nakhre, itne gaali. But my Hindi grammar is still embarrassingly bad, and I still can’t go an hour without talking. I still like to come up with ridiculous full forms for words and still call up people asking them where my phone is. Oh. Fuck. I have changed a lot over winter break, but I haven’t changed much at all, either.

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We are learning how to take our seats again, learning how to raise our hands again. And learning takes time. And time it will take. But we will get there soon. And until we do, and even after, know that you are not alone, that we are all here for you.