When the sky is rinsed in that cathartic, faint blue hue; when the soothing pools of raindrops cleanse the dryness of this land; when the only sounds that echo around our ears are the gentle "drips-drops" that flow and grow over time …
That shall be when, perhaps, I shall gather the faded memories from an earlier chapter of my life, and smile at the effort, faith, love, joy, gratitude, and excitement that I had put into this project. Perhaps, one day, I will casually bring this up in a business lunch conversation.
"… and I also ran for Senate once upon a time."
Of course, by Senate, I am referring to the student union at my college. How will my audience react to this? Will this whole endeavour be regarded as yet another one of those early struggles to acquire power, or be seen as a genuine effort to contribute to a community that one deeply loves and embraces?
Life is about tradeoffs. Since I embraced the "dismal science" of economics, I have been evaluating the costs and benefits of everything. My first-ever "campaign" involved a lot of planning and paradoxes. How can I make it thoughtful, yet not "planned" like a marketing agency promoting a new product? How can I remain who I am, but reach a broader audience? How can I convince the amazing people - whom I've briefly met at one or two events - without giving them an information overload or sacrificing my integrity? How can upperclassmen who have never even heard of me recognise my experience, personality, and plans from my name on the ballot?
"… and I also ran for Senate on April 7, 2015."
I'm preparing to take down my two remaining giant posters. Seeing their lonely faces on the walls makes me pause, and think. I gently peel off the tape, removing my temporary promotional material from the college's long-existing walls that have witnessed the campaigns of generations of aspiring student senators.
It made me feel … somewhat melancholic, but no tears fell on this day. Not a single one.