I'm sitting in the library, realizing that in my five years here at Clemson I never noticed the ceiling. Did I just never look up? Or was I too busy doing library-ish things? Back when it was constructed, I'm sure this place was state of the art and considered very beautiful. It's a huge building, crammed completely full of books and periodicals and other media. At this moment exhausted and stressed students are trickling in to do their last bit of work before the semester ends. It's finals week. Also known as the week of no sleep, freaking out, and denial. The last time I was here Alex was alive, many of our friends hadn't yet given birth to their second child, and I was still working retail. Back then I felt just close enough to student-hood that I couldn't appreciate this place and its people--I was trying to find a way to differentiate myself, so I took that "I feel so old" tact. In truth, I didn't feel like I'd come very far at all from being a Clemsonite, and for some reason that was unnerving. A year after my last visit, I've dropped the act. In a lot of ways I was the one in denial of how important and beautiful this place is. New memories have been made, new experiences had, and the passions I felt while a student here have attached themselves to more recent things. So, as I sit comfortably in the library at Clemson University I feel like I see through clear lenses for the first time. And I'm proud of this place.