I am the last one left on this island.

Not really, not literally, but for the first time it sort of feels that way. For the past three and a half years, I was the one leaving. Coming home every once and awhile for the weekend and during school breaks, but then I’d leave again. A month ago, I graduated a semester earlier than most of my friends and classmates who started college with me. Graduating early sounded awesome; one semester less of school work and loans, with the potential added bonus of landing a job before the rest of my classmates had finished.

So now I’m home, graduated, and living on the island again. An inevitability, but the thing of it is that my friends, specifically my island friends, are all leaving. And they’re not just going back to school. They’re spreading out across this country, into other countries. Henry and Justin are going on a cross-country road-trip; Katie disappeared to Hawaii to work on her cousin’s farm; Holly is doing a semester abroad in Greece.

I’ve lived on Long Island, Maine my whole life. Off the coast of Portland, the year-round population maxes out around 200. It’s very easy to feel trapped when you’re living down here or, really, in any small town when it comes down to it, but having a body of water that just contains you seems more barricading.

But I’ve never really felt stuck down here, at least I’ve never had that sort of consistent, nagging feeling of it. It always helped to have Portland as the mainland, like our small town is escapable. I’ve always been keenly aware of Portland’s role in conserving my sanity as an islander, but I’m thinking now that my friends down here have also been key to that.

Even when there were only a few of us around we figured out ways to entertain ourselves, from board games or movie nights to the occasional romp through snow-covered woods, lobster boat rides to a fancy restaurant (which we weren’t quite dressed for) and the wildest six-man party that could be mustered.

Now, this isn’t meant to come off as “poor me,” because I am excited for all my friends and their varying adventures. It’s just weird is all, because for the first time I’m the one who’s still on the island, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it yet. I recognize the fact that all my friends are leaving or gone, but this post-graduation future of mine already feels so uncertain that it’s hard to tell if I’ll be trapped down here, or if I will—as I have before—find ways around it.

Melanie Floyd is a recent graduate of the University of Maine at Farmington, where she majored in English and creative writing, now living on her native Long Island in Casco Bay.