The surreptitious look at the map of my university was quite embarrassing.
My lecture was about to start and I had no idea where lecture hall 3H was, in which I should learn something about the basics of democracy.
I'm now halfway through my studies, I had to exchange the lecture hall for my student digs for three semesters and I still have the feeling that I've only just started my studies.
This romantic notion of campus parties, studying in groups in the library and being enthusiastic about a completely new subject has been with me ever since I knew that I wanted to study.
A unique opportunity to try, enjoy and make friends for life.
"This will be the best time of your life," my parents said to me.
And I was really looking forward to it.
The pandemic turned out differently.
When I finally found the lecture hall, I dropped onto a bench.
I was way too early.
I was scrolling through Insta but lost my focus.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the space in front of the lecture hall fill up.
I squinted to see if anyone from the online meetings looked familiar.
I had never seen so many of my fellow students in one place.
Somehow I was glad that masks were still compulsory, you can hide behind masks if you want to.
And then I asked myself: When did you become such a wimp?
The firsts got on my nerves
Most of the other students did the same and sat alone, but some also got together in small groups, chatted happily and attracted envious looks.
They did what I wanted to do.
When is my turn?
I would have liked to join in, make new acquaintances, sit in a small group in the classroom, but instead of tackling all of that, I just stared in the direction of one group in agony for a moment and continued scrolling through my feed.
What a defeat.
Isn't studying really important for your personality?
To rub shoulders with lecturers, fellow students, the subject, to develop social skills?
I was sure that I would become bolder, a little more confident, more experienced.
Instead, the campus made me nervous at the start of the semester.
I was missing something.
Something suffered during the time I sat in my apartment surrounded by gray tiles in the online meeting.
What kind of person would I be today if it hadn't been for the pandemic?
I often ask myself that.
A pretty silly feeling, like I've been left behind, like I've missed out on something big.
The freshmen on campus got on my nerves.
And not because they fulfill any clichés.
But because they reminded me of what I'm missing.
Because I also have the same questions, the same hopes and the same expectations.
The same frightened look because the many people on campus are overwhelming at first.
And I was jealous.
Because right at the beginning of their studies they can experience what I would have wished for myself: pub crawls with the other freshmen, city rallies, parties in the park.
I feel robbed of the time
The relationship with my subjects has also suffered.
Every zoom meeting, every online exam, every group discussion that wasn't actually one because nobody turned on the camera or the microphone cost me a bit of enthusiasm.
I have now learned that content has a different value for me and is more accessible when it is not conveyed virtually, but when someone is there to explain it to me.
When I told my friends over dinner that I had behaved the way I did on my first real day of class, they just nodded silently.
We all seem to feel the same way.
We've been looking forward to meeting new people, but we all seem to have trouble chatting up people on campus.
"We're in the fourth semester now, only freshmen can do that.
If we do that, it's cringe," I often heard.
But that's not true.
Because when I plucked up the courage to sit down with strangers in the canteen, I realized how happy most people are to meet new people.
And then somehow everything settled down.
I made acquaintances in an informal way and the face-to-face events also brought back my enthusiasm for my subject.
It makes me sad that it all took a year and a half.
I feel deprived of time, of important experiences, of many acquaintances.
The pandemic has cost a lot of people, not just us students.
However, I believe that the last two years have had and are having consequences for us, of which we may not yet have any inkling.
Tom Konjer, 20 years old, is studying English and Politics in Düsseldorf. Still firmly believes in graduating within the standard period of study, although it's already too late for that.