Unlike the feeling of euphoria I have gotten for the past three years after handing in that last blue book, this time around I developed a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized that by finishing my final exam I was ending my career at Harvard.

It has all gone by at a lightening pace. Before I went off to college, a number of older people told me with a look of envy in their eyes that college would be the best time of my life and that they wished they could relive their college days.

I was thinking about all this as I walked through the Yard after my last exam. The sun shone brightly on the trees and the carefully planted flowers were in full bloom. Students were throwing frisbees, and a tour group was staring attentively at the Crimson Key guide as he stood on the steps of Widener explaining its history. On such days, Harvard seems to me to be one of the most beautiful places in the world--an idyllic institution serving some of the finest minds in the country.

Then why on earth would I want to leave? It seems almost cruel that after finally getting used to classes, your roommates and the intense atmosphere of achievement, the Gods of Harvard tell you it's time to be on your way. But increasingly, I've come to realize that while living behind Harvard's ivy-covered walls is an amazing experience, it is no substitute for experiencing the bigger picture life has to offer.

A friend of mine recently told me that to have an impact on the world you have to leave Harvard, at least for a little while. I know she's right. Staying here makes things too comfortable, too easy, and the challenges of the real world are filtered out of most students' lives. Of course, that doesn't make it much easier to say goodbye to friends you've seen virtually every day for the past four years and who, in some cases, may be moving halfway around the world.

Then there are the considerations of all the things you could still do at Harvard if you just had a little more time. Maybe you could join that off-beat extra-curricular you never had time to try or could take that extra class you didn't have room for when you were trying to fulfill both your concentration requirement and the Core.

For me, the sense of sadness I feel about leaving Harvard means I thoroughly enjoyed my four years here. In certain respects, graduating from college is almost as intimidating as moving away from home for the first time. But I know that the most exciting times of my life are just beginning.

Flora Tartakovsky '98, a history concentrator in Leverett House, was senior editor of The Crimson in 1997.