The Beginning of the End
October 7th, 2026
Writer: Nicolina Kane
Editor: Sophia Wohl
There is truly no better feeling than fall in Columbus. Only this fall, I can’t help but catch myself longing around campus. I stare at the trees as they change colors along the Oval; I watch the students walking to class with headphones on and a coffee in hand; I see my friends crowded together on a football Saturday, trying to recreate the same pictures on the same porch before we won’t be able to anymore.
Nothing about these moments is particularly unusual. I have experienced them for years. However, as I start my final year at Ohio State, I am starting to understand how much I will miss the things I once assumed would be there forever.
The beginning of senior year comes with strange excitement. There is the comfort of returning to a place you know, recognizing faces and settling back into familiar routines. Then, somewhere between the first week of classes and the first football game, comes the realization that this is the last time you will begin a year here. That feeling sits deep in my chest, and if I think about it too long, my eyes will start to fill with tears.
Our last first day. Our last first home game. Applying to jobs and graduate schools in different states from the friends we made along the way.
I used to hear seniors talk about their “last firsts” and think they were getting ahead of themselves. There was still an entire year left. Now I understand why they noticed. An ending can feel far away and already underway all at the same time.
It feels like just yesterday that I was starting my freshman year. I could pass hundreds of people without knowing a single one. I was learning where my classes were, wondering who I would sit with and hoping that, eventually, this enormous university would feel a little smaller.
Now, walking to class can turn into a series of unexpected reunions or waves at smiling faces. There is someone from a freshman-year class, a girl I met through a student organization, a friend of a friend who became my own friend. Sometimes we stop to catch up. Sometimes we only have time for a wave across the sidewalk. Either way, I find myself thinking about how differently that walk would have felt four years ago.
These connections accumulated so gradually that I barely noticed them happening. A conversation before class became a familiar face. An invitation became a friendship. Someone I once felt nervous introducing myself to become someone I could call without thinking twice. Seeing those people now reminds me that my college experience exists in more places than my closest circle. It lives in all the small relationships that made campus feel welcoming, familiar and eventually mine.
Ohio State in the fall has always been something I looked forward to. The air gets cooler, the Oval changes, and football weekends give everyone a reason to come together. This year, there is an extra feeling underneath it all.
I want to remember the walk to the stadium as much as the game itself. I want to remember the conversations before kickoff, the pictures we insist on taking and the way we somehow find each other afterward. I even want to remember the moments when we are running late or nobody can agree on a plan. Because one day, I will sit and beg for a chaotic night like that again, with the people I love most.
When I look around and realize all of my friends are in the same place, I feel grateful—and then a little sad. Nostalgia is an evil but beautiful thing. I am excited to see where everyone goes. I also wish I could keep this version of our lives for a little longer.
Lately, I have been noticing people taking graduation photos around campus. I watch them straighten their gowns, pose with their friends and smile while someone behind the camera tells them where to stand. It is a familiar scene, but now I can picture myself in it.
The future shows up in our conversations, too. Someone is applying for jobs. Someone is looking at graduate programs. Someone is considering a city she has never lived in before. Questions about weekend plans turn into questions about what happens after graduation.
As a freshman, being a senior sounded like having everything figured out. From here, it looks more like revising a résumé, refreshing an inbox and talking through possibilities with friends who are doing the same thing. There is real excitement in imagining what comes next. There is also uncertainty in realizing that the life we have built here is about to change, even if we are not ready for that change.
I do not want to spend my entire senior year anticipating how much I will miss it. Some days, I am simply busy. I have assignments to finish, places to be and a schedule that leaves very little room for reflection. But when there is a reason to pause, I am trying to let myself.
To stop when I see someone I know. To stay a little longer when my friends are together. To look up during the walk across campus instead of spending the whole time on my phone.
I cannot know which football game, late-night conversation or ordinary afternoon will become the memory I return to most. That is part of what makes this year feel so precious. So much of what I will miss is still happening.
For now, the leaves are changing on the Oval, there are games still left to attend, familiar faces to wave at and friends close enough to see tonight.
I am beginning to understand the goodbye, but for now, I am still here for everything that comes before it.
