‘Where will you go? Will you be gone long? Can I come with you?’ I ask with a heavy heart.
‘I’m taking my guitar on the road, and I’m gonna round up all the lost songs — the ones whose owners misplaced them, the ones who wandered away from home and couldn’t find their way back, the ones who never belonged to anyone and never had a home — and I’m gonna bring them here for us to raise as our own. It could take days or months or even years. No one knows how many lost songs live in these woods. Will you stay and take care of the cabin so it’s ready when I return? I’m afraid the songs won’t follow me here unless there’s a fire in the hearth, strong coffee on the stove, and the heart of a woman to take them in.’
‘I’ll wait for you forever, Bon Iver,’ I say. Because I will.
I was back on campus this weekend volunteering, and felt a mix of emotions - happiness (probably from deluding myself into thinking I’m still a college student), nostalgia, and wistfulness. USC will always be a special place for me. There is nothing that can replicate the freedom and excitement I felt as a freshman wandering from class to class, or the hundreds of memories I’ve accumulated over four years that I associate with USC’s red-brick architecture.