I would like to say I’m an observant person. I notice when people act differently, how different plants blow in the wind, and so much more. I have noticed every year how different groups of seniors have reacted to their senior years and how their experiences have changed along with their reactions. But as I am ending my junior year, and even the past few months, I have been feeling, reacting, and acting similarly.
I feel like my time is ticking. Every moment is not quite the last, but it is second to last, and for some reason, that makes it just as nerve-racking.
Every last event of my junior year has led me to a spiral, as I became nervous and realized that I may only have one left.
It’s like when there is one scoop of ice cream left in our freezer. My brother and I will both fight over it, and both desperately want to have it, but sometimes, it will sit there for weeks because neither of us wants to come to terms with the fact that eating it would mean we would need to buy more. My school experience is somewhat similar; I don’t want the “lasts” that occupy senior year to come because when they’re done, I have to move on to the next part of my life.
A common theme in my life is “never grow up.” I live by it, and would rather stay back in fourth grade than get older, change, gain responsibility, etc. I think about it, write about it—a lot—talk about it, and it is always omnipresent in my life. Yes, there are things I’m looking forward to in life, in senior year, and the years following, but those things are terrifying. I hate change, if that doesn’t seem like a theme already. It means readjusting, altering plans or ideas, and changing opinions, all things that I’d rather not deal with.
How can anyone expect me to fathom that in about a year from now, I may be seeing hundreds of kids for the last time, walking around the school for the last time, and never be a high school student again? That’s a whole lot of growing up and changing that I don’t think I’m exactly ready for.
Also, graduating from high school means that I’m not a silly, little high school girl anymore. Does that mean I can’t post on Instagram like I do now, or make my silly little TikToks? Will it not be acceptable to watch Disney movies in my free time instead of serious adult films? Will it be weird to be obsessed with my dog, or to have everything that I own either be pink or blue? Of course, I can probably stay the same, but my experiences probably won’t: I won’t come home in the afternoon to my own house and my dad taking his afternoon nap, and sit in my comfy living room couch and postpone getting my homework done. I won’t ever again have the same Friday night football experiences or dancing on the field at halftime. There are so many things that will dramatically change in the second of walking out of a school for the last time.
So, as I’m watching, listening, and observing the current seniors move on to their next chapters and paths, I wonder why they all seem calm. They all seem like their lives are figured out, but do they not worry about never seeing these people again, or simply changing their lifestyle for something dramatically different? Does that mean I will be expected to seem like everything is great and excited to graduate high school even if it may feel like my world is falling apart? The odd thing is, I hate high school. I’m not very fond of a lot of the people enough to miss them, or even the experiences, half of the time. Still, there is something about the comfort of going on my fourth year in this school, eighth maybe with these people, and many years of habits, experiences, and lessons that I would rather stay here and dread every second than ever leave.
As I’m entering senior year, I wish I could wait, save that last scoop of ice cream, because I am, in no sense, prepared to go buy more.
