Four years ago, exactly four years ago, I sat just a few yards away from where I sat earlier today, in the northwest bleachers of the gym, and I remember absolutely everything about that moment as if it really were earlier today. I remember that desire to be sitting there on the northeast side, the coveted section of the bleachers that was reserved for the Senior class. I remember how itchy my tiny white skirt was, but I absolutely had to wear it because the freshman color is always just white, blue and gold reserved for upper classmen, and what would it say about my school spirit if I didn’t wear all white? I remember that thrill when we actually beat those Seniors in one of those small events, the three-legged race or the hula hoop relay or something as seemingly unimportant, and I remember that desire to be that class that had the score over 100 points by the end of the afternoon, winning almost everything because it was tradition. The Senior class always wins. Today, I was a part of that winning class. And yet, I still envied every other person in that gym. Because while I move on with my life to whatever may come next for me, they all get to come back and do it again next year. Today, I wanted to go back to being that innocent, naïve little girl who absolutely couldn’t wait until she got to wear more than just white. Today, I would have traded all of that blue and gold clothing and accessories that I wore in order to wear just white again.

I should be excited. No, I should be thrilled right now. In just less than an hour, I’ll be in the stands at one of my last home football games ever, cheering on my team and hoping by some miracle we may actually win just this once, even though it’s doubtful given the way the season has been going. And I am. Even though my throat hurts from all the screaming and cheering I did earlier today and I’ll have literally no voice by the time I finally get back home tonight at whatever time that may be, I’m excited about whatever tonight may bring. I can’t wait to spend the evening with my friends afterwards, hopefully celebrating our football team’s miraculous victory. I can’t wait for tomorrow night when I’ll dance until my feet are numb and so swollen, I’ll never be able to put back on those amazing red shoes that I bought before I even had the dress. But at the same time, this all feels so incredibly bittersweet. We joked around, pointing out the fact that it was our last first day of school and it was our last first home football game and it was the last time we would ever have to sit through that god awful handbook meeting, but it never really set in like it has this week. I knew that my time there in high school was limited, but I never realized how much I would miss it until today when I looked around that gym, seeing all the under classmen, and I wished for the first time that I wasn’t a Senior. That I was a Freshman or a Sophomore or even a Junior, though I was happy to finally reach a conclusion for that particular year. Because I want more. I don’t want it to end.

Everyone else seems ready to move on from this no, yes, no stoplight town, and I think I am too. When I really think about it, I think I know that I’m ready for what awaits me next, what’s right around the corner or just out of my line of sight at the moment, but I don’t want to see this come to an end. I don’t want to watch as my friends all go off to different places, different states next year, and I’m wherever I do end up going to school, wondering how those four years could move past me in the blink of an eye. This year hasn’t been the spectacular year I wanted. My classes aren’t what I hoped they would be. My friends are already beginning to drift apart. And the Homecoming King? He’s just a friend, merely a friend. And that’s really only on good days at that. Just a few months ago, I wanted him to be so much more than that, even though I was afraid of what that may mean, and now, I never know how to act around him anymore. I envisioned this year going so differently than it is. I thought I would be happier, less stressed, something. And I’ve had my moments of pure happiness, today being one of the many, but it still leaves me feeling nostalgic and maybe even the tiniest bit lost. Because I don’t know what comes next. Sure, I have months before this year truly comes to an end. But it’s already going so fast, and I know that no matter what I try to do, I can’t slow it down.

All I really know is, I shouldn’t feel like crying now. And yet, it’s all I seem to want to do.