“Five More Minutes”
“Give
me five more minutes (Yeah)
Baby,
I'm not finished loving you
I
don't wanna end it when we're only just beginning
Give
me five more minutes”
--the
Jonas Brothers, “Five More Minutes”
 |
| 12-13-2019. Take me back to our Holiday Party. |
This morning, I awoke to a GroupMe
message from Noelle: “Does Katie know there are new Jonas Brothers songs out on
our would be graduation?”
Yes. I knew.
I listened to them at midnight last
night.
And now we have another
bonus post. (It’s actually kind of
fitting that this whole last week of posts got messed up…just like our whole last
semester. It’s a kind of poetic parallel, isn’t it?)
 |
| 8-19-2019. Can we match just one more time? |
 |
| I wish we had spent five more minutes in the pool at Nick's apartment last summer. |
Now, I know that “Five More Minutes”
is a love song. And I love you guys, but Nick is definitely trying to get
Priyanka’s pants off in this, and that’s not what I was going for when I
spontaneously decided to write about this song. It was the chorus—“Give me five
more minutes / I’m not finished loving you / I don’t wanna end it when we’re
just beginning”—that made me cry when I told my mom about it this morning.
Because what I wouldn’t give for five more minutes with you guys.
This is our “last” day. It’s
graduation, and we’re not spending it the way we wanted to. I just
shoveled my “graduation lunch” (a “treat-yoself” meal of Panda Express) down my
throat while sitting on my couch in a K-State t-shirt with hair that hasn’t
been washed in almost a week. Super celebratory, right? But I keep thinking
about our actual last day—March 6th. I don’t remember who I
saw that day or what I did. It was just a regular Friday. We said our goodbyes
and our “have fun over breaks,” and we told the girls to be safe on their drive
to Denver. It wasn’t special. It shouldn’t have been.
But I wonder how it might have been
different if we had known.
I remember being a little relieved
that it was Spring Break, because we had been “fighting.” Okay, we had been
tense and snippy with each other. You know, reasonably so. At that point, we
were dealing with finishing Master’s Projects and Committee comments (and
revisions and revisions and revisions), and we were on the brink of important decisions,
and there were midterms and teaching stresses, and everything was changing. I
don’t even remember what specific things were said. That’s how I know it was
pointless little snipes. But, wow, this puts it all into perspective, doesn’t
it?
 |
| 11-2-2019. Okay, I might ask for Eleven more minutes of this night. Obviously. |
But if I had five more minutes—real
minutes, not Zoom minutes or socially distant minutes—I’d give you each the
biggest hug without worrying if one of us had been exposed to COVID-19. I’d let
you have a sip of the new coffee from Radina’s. I’d toss my “Comfort Pillow” at
you, and we’d laugh about something that happened in class. I’d casually tell
you that you’re doing great and that I’m so proud of you as you headed out the bullpen
door. It would all be so mundane. But what I wouldn’t give for a little “normal.”
 |
| No idea what's happening here, but I'd take five more minutes of our chaos if it was offered to me. |
I try so, so hard to love every
minute of my life, because I know that tornadoes can tear up a town in a matter
of minutes and that pandemics can shut down countries indefinitely, but there
are even things that I’ve taken for granted—like the sound of laughter from 007.
Or calling down the hall, “Mikayla, are you there?’ because I couldn’t be
bothered to walk down to her office. Or going to Nick and Noelle and Katherine’s
office for “a change of scenery.” Or leaving sticky notes on your desks just
because I miss you. And all our walks to the Union—sometimes two or three times
a day—that always ended with me getting coffee or ice cream when I didn’t mean
to. (Oh, man, this is prime Call Hall ice cream time, and now I’m extra mad!)
Those are the little things that I didn’t think I’d miss, but I do.
 |
| 2-7-2020. Give me five more minutes trying to wrangle everyone out the door to walk from the girls' house to Aggieville. |
Like I said earlier, I was talking
to my mom earlier, and I told her about Noelle’s message, and when I went to
quote the lyric, “I’m not finished loving you,” I choked up. Like, it was
instantaneous; I felt my throat tighten and my eyes started watering. Because I
wasn’t finished loving you the last time we said goodbye. I had so much
planned. There were so many things we were supposed to do and see and
experience. And it all got taken away. The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever
be “finished” loving you—I mean, after getting to know you all, I don’t think any
amount of time with you will be enough—but I was prepared for things to come to
a natural end today, May 15th. I was braced for that. I wasn’t ready
for March 6th. I thought I had 2 ½ more months.
And I wish I could go back to March
6th and tell myself to take five more minutes in the office. Take
five more minutes to talk in the hallway. Five more minutes to tell Peggie and Audra
and Anne and Anne that I appreciate them. To look around the bullpen and remember
how much we’ve accomplished in those four cinder block walls.
I know time is meaningless, but, I
don’t know, those five minutes would mean everything to me now.
Let’s raincheck them, okay? With interest.
Love ∞,
Me
Comments
Post a Comment