The Harvard Crimson
Dear Harvard, This is for the water bottles never dropped in Widener, the all-nighters never pulled in the sallow fluorescence of Lamont. This is for mystery HUDS meat and Mikeâs cannolis, for aimless philosophizing along the Charles and the hushed magic of a Yard sugared in snow. All the ordinary moments that never came to pass. When I tell people Iâve never stepped foot on campus as an enrolled student, they react with a range of understandable emotions â pity, outrage, disbelief. My high school self would have been speechless, too. I would have been incensed at the thought o...