If I were a perfect editor-in-chief, I’d focus this goodbye letter on the Trinitonian. I’d talk about the staff bonding at late night production nights, the excitement of running around for a story, the adrenaline of constantly being on-call for breaking news or backlash.

But I’d be lying if I were to tell you that I’ll miss the work. In all honesty, I’m so excited to finally spend a Wednesday night in my own bed, rather than hovering over a computer screen looking for one misspelled word. I’m ready for another paper, but so ready to give up the stress of a university, student-run one. I’m excited to go, but not because I’ve hated being editor-in-chief. I’m honored to be editor-in-chief. I’m incredibly grateful for the four years of experience the Trinitonian has given me. It has given more to me than anything else I’ve been a part of.

I’m excited because I’m burning out. I rewatched “The Devil Wears Prada” for the first time in a while the other day (in preparation for the new, likely-terrible sequel), and I couldn’t help but think about how work has taken over my life. I know I can’t throw myself a full pity party, given that I am in the position of the “big evil boss,” but I identify with how suffocating publishing can be.

This work is all-encompassing. It takes over your whole life — and not just as editor-in-chief. Every person on this staff makes a huge sacrifice, and I owe them so much for that.

The editorial board has supported me in too many ways to count. From Managing Editor Diya Contractor helping me with edits to Head Copy Editor Dylan Wilford sitting down and listening to me sob, they’ve been there for me — even while drowning themselves.

Production nights and story idea meetings aren’t fun. It’s grueling, neverending work. The last thing editors, including me, want to do after a 12-hour all-night shift is go to another three-hour meeting. And they did it anyway. Every time.

Writers, photographers, illustrators, our distribution manager, our social media coordinator — they all showed up, and they all pulled it together to get all 26 issues out. They went out to report, lingered to take photos and sat for hours perfecting the coloring on the comic.

To everyone on staff, I’m not telling you that I miss every moment we spent working together. I know you don’t either. But I am telling you that I see you. I see the hours you put in. I see the details in your stories, your illustrations and your photos that you carefully chose. I see the wonderful work you produce, and the exhaustion on each of your faces.

I see the dedication you have to keep going. It’s what got us through this year. Every one of you has supported the paper — and me — and I am so grateful for that.

I won’t miss the ridiculous amount of work, honestly, but I will miss the people. I’ll miss being able to complain to Diya for hours on end. I’ll miss Pulse Editor Julianna Plewes yelling about a grade on one of her presentations — with more passion than I’ve seen anyone give anything.

I’ll miss Pulse Reporter Keira Cahill silently embroidering in our story idea meetings, and illustrators Khoa Nguyen and Pipp Phichairatanaphong immediately doing the crossword. I’ll miss Photo Editor Tess Gagliano’s quiet genius. News Reporter Julianne Dunn’s truly mind-boggling love of “South Park.” Daniel Conrad, our advisor, and his wide-eyed warnings. News Reporter Maya Shahmansoorian’s to-die-for style. I’ll miss the little things about each one of you. The paper gave me four of the most suffocating, grueling, rewarding, heart-racing years of my life. The people got me through that.

Staff, it’s you I’ll miss. Thank you for everything you’ve done. Go get some rest.

-Editor-in-Chief, one last time, Sam