Personal Narrative Essay: A Personal Experience

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I had a strange dream the night before we met again in September, a dream about you. But you were no longer a campus or a schoolhouse or a classroom. No, you were a person. And you were there, outside my room, waving at me as always with that cute, disarming smile on your face, even as you shivered in the brisk autumn air of the New England evening. I invited you inside. You said you missed me, and I said the same. We spent that night catching up, first talking about you and what you had been up to over the summer, for you’d changed since I last saw you. The Corinthian columns and aged red bricks of your Schoolhouse had been covered with scaffolding, and your classrooms were all mixed up and not where I remembered them to be. With your cheeks rosy—perhaps because of the cold, or perhaps because this embarrassed you—you assured me that it’d all be back to normal by Thanksgiving. But I didn’t mind. Sure, you and your impressive golden dome and Gothic chapel were always stunning, but to me, your beauty had always transcended your physical appearance anyways. The conversation then turned to me and my summer at the art studio, and I told you about the hours I spent working on my college art portfolio. You joked that I should draw you—“like one of your…show more content…
Even as I came back to the real you (you were more awkward and distant than I had imagined in the dream) and like last year, you once again overwhelmed me with commitments and essays and tests, the idea never ceased manifesting itself in my mind. Thus, when I saw an opportunity to make the dream a reality by signing up for a winter art FSA, I didn’t hesitate to seize it. I typed on my application: “The purpose of my winter art FSA will be the design and creation of a 3’ x 10’ mural depicting Groton.” But that didn’t sound right. I paused while my cursor blinked and read over what I had just typed. “Too vague,” I muttered. Delete. Delete.
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