by Hayat Aljowaily
For someone who uses ellipses so often, I have to say – they really frustrate me.
We’ve all seen or watched the last scene of a movie or page of a book, that show two characters, who after falling in and out of love, or saving the world together, and being separated by this or that circumstances, finally bump into each other, years later, while buying milk at the supermarket. One of them notices the other, and stares, overcome by the wave of emotions triggered by years of both beautiful and painful memories. Finally, the second character turns around, and the second their eyes lock – bam, the end credits start, or you turn to the ‘acknowledgments’ page.
Many admire authors who leave you pondering with three little dots – allowing them to write their own ending to the story (pessimists choosing to have one of the characters look away, and optimists having them run towards each other in a warm embrace). I, however, have always despised that.
When a book ends with a loud and strong “the end” period, you close the book, sigh, and move on with your life. However, when an author decides to hit you with the ‘dot dot dot’, I can’t stop myself from spending the next three days torturing myself over the all the what ifs and possibilities.
The thing about Menton, is that it leaves you with these controversial three little dots. Unlike high school, or most other universities, we will never get to stand on a stage with the 150 students with whom we shared an uncountable amount of memories, first times, adventures and sorrows – to clôturer our short but sweet, Mentonese adventure.
In front of the (hopefully not as shabby as Dijon) hotels in Reims, we will be confronted with the unwritten nature of our story.
Come the fall, some of us will return to Menton, unprepared but eager to become 2As, taking on the legacy of our campus and impregnating it upon the generation to come. Others, will head to London or New York, terrified but excited, to take on a second degree. And some will take on a whole new life, whether learning Arabic in the bustling streets of Morocco, venturing into the world of Business in Hong Kong, or discovering hidden gems in India, Argentina or Scandinavia.
Divided up between the four corners (literally!) of the world, many “?” stay unanswered – because before us lies a bed of many options and opportunities. The legend goes that we will all ((gloriously)) reunite in Paris. But what happens until then? And what happens if a plot twist occurs putting one of us on a different path?
Hence come the worries and the doubt about how to deal with or where to take the friendships, or even relationships, we’ve built in the past two years.
Do we act, or accept, that this is the end? Cherish our moments together, but bid farewell?
Do we viciously hold on to the idea that maybe fate (or rather the guaranteed spot in the ScPo Masters program) will bring us back together, and enable us to press play on our story once more – knowing well enough that it will never be the same?
Or what if, we accepted the opportunity “…” gives us to write our own ending?
Yes. The unknown is terrifying. And it is especially terrifying when what’s at stake is two years of enchantment.
But at the end of the day – aren’t we Sciences Piste? We enter every exam not knowing three words about the topic, and yet, still end up walking out of the Grand Amphi having written answered à problématique through a beautiful introduction, three well structured paragraphs, and a hard hitting conclusion.
So where will you let the “…” of your Mentonese story take you?
Vous avez 4 heures.
Latest posts by lezadig (see all)
- The New Colossus - 17/02/2019
- El criminal de la cara conocida // A familiar faced criminal - 17/02/2019
- War Crimes and Historical Awareness: The Italian Case - 17/02/2019