I have been trying to avoid writing this for as long as I can, but I think the time has finally come.

This year is my senior year, so naturally, there are going to be a lot of lasts this year – but I am so sentimental because as of Sunday, I had the first significant one.

For the past six months, I have worked for the Pittsburgh Pirates in their Media Relations department. It was everything that I want to do upon graduation and my bosses (including Dan Hart, a Point Park alum himself) could not have been better.

On Sunday afternoon, the season, and ultimately my time with the organization, came to an end via a 3-1 loss from the Pirates in just two hours and 43 minutes.

It was my last game – my last time walking from 201 Wood Street to PNC Park, clocking in, and running around like mad before sitting down at press dining to enjoy one last cup of half-and-half ice cream and researching statistics during the game.

And then it hit me.

That was the first ‘last’ that really made me emotional.

So as my tear-stained cheeks walked back to my apartment after hundreds of goodbyes and a fair amount of hugs and handshakes, I started to think of what’s to come.

There is going to be a final broadcast for me at the Point Park Sports Network. A final women’s basketball beat article that I have so enthusiastically covered for all of my years at Point Park. A final shuttle bus ride home from a baseball game in Greentree. A final column.

I knew senior year was going to bring about a lot of changes, but I was not prepared to let go of things that have meant so much to me, especially those things that have kept me sane as a college student.

I cannot imagine a life without The Globe, U-View and Point Park athletics.

Growing up is scary and we are not supposed to have all the answers right out of college. Honestly, I don’t think we are even supposed to have all of the questions.

It is easy to grasp onto the things we are involved in while we are in college because we know they will be constant – and that once we graduate, there is no such thing as ‘constant.’

That is why this first ‘last’ cuts so deep. My constants aren’t constants anymore – the things I have clutched onto are no longer in my grasp and it’s hard to wrap my head around.

With less constants come more availability for the unexpected and ever-changing – the scary stuff.

I don’t want to grow up just yet, but one day next semester, there will be a last ‘last.’

Hopefully, there will shortly afterward be a first ‘first.’