The days in high school are quickly waning. Three and a half remain. Today I started signing yearbooks. It is the single most surreal thing I have done this year. I thought I had prepared and thought of all the lasts and freaked out about them last year. But I forgot about this one.
For some, the ones I’ve only vaguely known, it’s been no big deal, no less awkward than normal. But for those I have known better in the past or intimately in the present, it’s been weird. Today, I signed the yearbook of one of my former best friends. I wrote her name and then it hit me. This is goodbye. In a few days we won’t see each other again. Ever. Excepting reunions, but those mean next to nothing.
This is it. The last 10 years of my life are ending. The people that populated them are fading from my sight, from my life. It is so strange to have these yearbooks sit in front of my on a table, a pen held in between my fingers with uncertainty. I am overwhelmed with memories and incapable of forming words or sentences. Everything is so out of whack, everything is so unreal.
How can it be that I am graduating? How is it that this is the end of things? How is it that graduation is 8 days away? Things are changing. Fast. I don’t know if I feel ready. I don’t know if I feel prepared. I look around this physics class room and I look at the fellow seniors in this class and I feel comfortable. I like this room. This room means something to me. This science room is more than a room, it was a home last year during my independent study. Even stranger is the room I spend half my day in and have walked to and sat in for the past three years with the teacher I consider a good friend. Understanding that my days, hours, minutes and seconds are running out faster than the end of a sand timer is depressing. That room is the most comforting place in the whole school. It feels like my room.
I can’t believe this is the end of things.
5 comments