Nothing Gold Can Stay
March 4, 2024
Writer: Caroline Tully
Editor: Tayla Appelbaum
I want things to last forever. I’m the last person to let go of a hug. I am the last one to turn in an exam. I can’t bring myself to watch the finale of Sex and the City; instead, I just start the whole series again.
I live a golden lifestyle. I cherish waking up to my four fabulous roommates in our cozy college house. I enjoy walking to my Thursday lecture with my two friends and sitting at Table 14, chatting, learning, and laughing. I revel in pregaming to Beyoncé, ordering a rum and Coke at the bar, and seeing the same people I see every weekend. I find solace in sipping my iced vanilla latte in the quiet of the law library.
As I shop for graduation dresses and put the final touches on my résumé, I fear what the future holds. I can't help but wish I could keep things just as they are. The last time I felt this deep desire to stay stagnant was at the end of this summer, the most cherished season. As I was driving around listening to Lana del Rey, one lyric stuck out to me: "as the summer fades away, nothing gold can stay." It offered me peace, in that moment, to remember that the carousel of life keeps turning, the seasons will cycle, and we'll return to a new summer soon.
Listening to the song again now, I'm not feeling the same satisfaction that I had before. It feels narrow-minded and dismissive. It's almost like saying "well, that's life!" but just a bit more poetic. Life is far too complicated to accept the idea that things happen and stop happening without any say from us. Far too much of my life has felt chaotic and out of my control, so I hold onto things that are stronger than chance.
We go through life meeting new people, visiting new places, and trying new things, and no matter how hard I try, I can't make them stay. But maybe that's not the gold? Perhaps, it's the things I can hold onto: the moments, the memories, and the feelings.
As I approach the end of what feels like the greatest chapter yet, I remind myself that things will not be the same after this. I won't wake up in my college house each morning. I won't have Thursday's lecture. I won't be going to the same bars. I won't be studying in the law library. I won't be with my family. This doesn't mean these parts of me are gone. I am a mosaic of all of my experiences, and the art of living is the opportunity to expand this painting. This, I believe, is gold. We have to let go of the hug, turn in the exam, watch the finale, and accept the life that's waiting for us.
Image: Julia Bonnano
