At a meeting last Wednesday, I found out that the College of Architecture and Environmental Design would be getting a brand new building of its very own in a few years. The architects vying for a chance to design it are some of the most prominent designers of our generation, but I won’t get into that.

In all the excitement that came with the idea of a building that didn’t have squirrels in the air ducts and an elevator that we affectionately referred to as a death trap, I got a little sad. What about Taylor Hall?

It’s been a CAED tradition for decades, and was my home for two years. It’s where I met almost everyone I know in Kent. I fell in love there. I lived, ate and didn’t sleep there for the first half of my college experience. The walls of the fourth floor have seen the best and the worst of me, and thousands of people before me.

So now what? I can think of very few stories about our late night adventures that wouldn’t get us in trouble — in fact, I can’t really think of any. How do I just move on from the building that has been such an important part of my life?

Perhaps I should give more credit to the professors, the people who have actually molded me and the other fourth-years during our educational experience. They have been the ones who pushed me, mentored me, sent me home crying and told me I wasn’t good enough.

They cared enough to help drag me through this program. They hugged me when my grandfather died and told me I look like shit after an all-nighter. But regardless of whether I have liked them or their method of teaching, I owe each one a lot and always strive to make them proud.

Then, of course, there are the people who have watched the sunrises from the top floor with me: my friends. Those outside of the architecture program call us cliquish, but I feel like any group would be if it spent as much time together as we do. We’re a family.

The people I met my very first week are my roommates, running buddies, yoga classmates, fellow mischief-makers and best friends. They have supported me through everything, and I don’t know where I would be without them.

So, in the midst of all this reminiscing, I’m starting to think that everything might be all right when the CAED leaves Taylor Hall. Those incoming freshmen in the fall of 2015 may not have the exact same superb facilities that I have survived with, but they will have the same professors, the same cutthroat program and, with any luck, the same inability to get work done at a decent hour that forced me to spend so many evenings with the people I love.

Taylor Hall will always have a special place in my heart, but I’m hoping that because of it, I’ll get to have some amazing people who have a special place in my future.