Do-over

Ha. This one is actually relatively short.

Lately I've been having very realistic and vivid dreams about experiences I've had in college. I hate them. I hate them because they're wonderful, and they continually remind me of everything I miss about college. The other night, I had the most amazing and therefore mockingly malicious dream yet. I dreamed that I went back in time to the first day of college. The worst thing wasn't what I actually did in the dream; in fact, that part of it was quite irrelevant (except the ward social part). The thing I hated the most (after I awoke, that is) was that I was there again, with all the knowledge, experiences, and memories from my life at BYU. I attended the ward opening social, which was painful for two reasons. First, I never attended the social in real life. Second, I already knew EVERYONE. I wanted to much to grab someone by the shoulders and say, "You are AMAZING! I know and love you like family and I want to spend as much time as I can with each and every one of you." Of course, this would have been pretty creepy and disturbing, so I didn't. When I went back home, I reflected on the fantastic situation I was in. I could participate in all the ward activities I had missed, and relive with joy the ones I already had. I could spend more time with my friends, serve more, date more, live more instead of spending lonely Saturdays watching Cosmos and TED talks on my laptop. And then the most beautiful (and later torturous) part of the dream came. I got down on my knees and poured my heart out to the Lord in endless gratitude for the marvelous opportunity I had been blessed with. I thanked Him that I could have a chance to do it right this time, and not waste time thinking about my welfare. I looked forward with boundless excitement to the world of possibilities before me.

And then I woke up. I realized with regret that the reality I had just left wasn't reality after all. I wished that I could be back there, to have the ability to navigate the constant, unidirectional stream we know as time. I almost felt like I deserved the right to fix my mistakes and give more of myself to others at the expense of the space-time continuum, but then I remembered. We don't deserve anything. We're already deeply in debt as it is. I could make all kinds of hackneyed phrases about not knowing what you've got until it's gone, or cliched assertions that I won't take anything for granted. Heck, it's probably even cliched now to say that it's cliched. I don't know what I could say know that hasn't already been said about this, but I learned my lesson. For the rest of you, I'll just end with a quote from Calvin & Hobbes:

"If good things lasted forever, would we appreciate how precious they are?"