As my time at Saint Louis University is winding down, and I’m faced with a world full of endless challenges and possibilities, all I can do is think about all the good times I’ve spent here.
So, if you will forgive me, this is dedicated to my friends.
I’ll remember spending the night in a trailer in East St. Louis with you, drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade and thinking I was just the coolest thing.
I’ll remember leaping around in a circle with you, fusing our hands together in an imitation of the Billiken mating ritual.
I’ll remember walking down Lindell Boulevard in a rowing uni with you on the way to a spandex party.
I’ll remember the time we made our displeasure with a certain Mexican establishment known.
I’ll remember to always be your Haley Joel Osment, if you’ll be my Winnie Cooper.
I’ll remember the four months I spent in Australia with you—scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef, sleeping in the Outback, trying to peel a tick off my foot in a sketchy motel outside of Melbourne.
I’ll remember standing on the balcony of the Busch Student Center with you, smoking as you vent with me and keep me sane.
I’ll remember sitting in the parking lot of The Pageant and drinking champagne when they didn’t believe your ID was real.
I’ll remember the day you bought me a pack of cigarettes when I couldn’t afford my own, and performing an impromptu ABBA sing-a-long in your car.
I’ll remember the time we met a guy who said he was in Queens of the Stone Age out at a bar, only to realize he was a fraud after we Googled the band.
I’ll remember our harmless flirtation, doctor. You freaking tease.
I’ll remember sitting in the school bus on the top of the City Museum in the middle of the night, drinking PBR and wondering how we got there.
I’ll remember sitting on the ‘bitch couch’ with you and yelling random lines from The Last Station.
I’ll remember the Bryan and Pamela wedding reception, even though we weren’t invited to it.
I’ll remember the time we both nearly died while you were trying to apply eyeliner on me and give me a Mohawk.
I’ll remember taking a cab back from South County after we got stranded there—even if you wish you didn’t.
I’ll remember staying out until 4 a.m. just so we could sing Destiny’s Child on a stage in the middle of the track.
I’ll remember finding out that the real party is clearly happening at The Kevin Kline Awards and realizing there was no way we were ever going to be getting up to that karaoke microphone again.
I’ll remember that, no matter what The New York Times crossword says, ‘Gotcha!’ to a hippie will forever be known as ‘Yo, I got!’
I guess what I’m trying to say is that, in five years time, what I’ll remember is the people I met, the friends I made and the stories we share.
So, to everyone who made it all possible, thanks for the memories.

Will Holston is the Arts Editor, graduating from the College of Arts and Sciences.