More to say

My final headshot: grown up Annie eating cannoli on her sister’s roof. Annie’s Gotta Eat! Photo credit: Annie Cappetta

When I was growing up, I went through phases of watching the same movie version of a musical every weekend for months on end. Between “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,” “Little Shop of Horrors,” “Funny Girl” and other classics, my deepest obsession of all was “Evita,” the Madonna version of the ode to the Argentinian anti-heroine Eva Perón.

I’ve been writing for The Miami Hurricane since the first month of my freshman year, spilling my strongest feelings, innermost thoughts, odd obsessions and fresh breaking news with all of you. My dream is to go out from the University of Miami in an Evita-style blaze as she proclaims from her “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina” balcony, “Have I said too much? There’s nothing more I can think of to say to you. But all you have to do is look at me to know that every word is true.”

My first headshot for TMH opinion columns starting in September 2014. Photo credit: Annie Cappetta

As I write these words, not paying attention to the class I’m in – how many of my best columns have been written – my eyes are welling up with tears. Don’t worry – I’m a notorious public crier.

I can’t go out with the same bang as Perón. While every word has been true, I can think of so much more to say to you. My crazy organizational scheme on the productivity app Trello is filled with dozens of story ideas that I won’t be the one to communicate.

The Miami Hurricane became my home after I floated around trying activities that didn’t quite fit. It became my full-time job and I poured as much love into my work at The Hurricane as people do into their relationships. Breaking up with TMH when our love is as passionate and fiery as ever is as hard as with any college sweetheart.

My final headshot: grown up Annie eating cannoli on her sister’s roof. Annie’s Gotta Eat! Photo credit: Annie Cappetta

When I go home to Chicago for breaks, things never quite feel the same as they did when I was living there full time. I butt heads with my parents more now that I live independently. I lost close high school friendships and the ones that stuck changed. The town that was once my whole world seems less significant or necessary now.

You can never really go back home.

I know I will make a new home as I head to law school in a new city, and that will be as fulfilling as building my home at TMH was, but it will be different and I will never recreate what I have here and now.

When I was opinion editor, I implemented a target word count of 400 to 500 words, much to my writers’ chagrin. Forced brevity has always made my words more digestible and powerful. I wish I had thousands more to use, but I know that will take away from the meaning. I know I can never come back home once I leave. And I know it has to end somewhere.

Annie Cappetta will graduate with a Bachelor of Science in ecosystem science and policy and political science.