How am I meant to summarize a lifetime? 

Maybe that’s an exaggeration, however “an eternity” felt to be too generous, and “four years” just doesn’t sound… right.

See, I’ve lived many different lives passing the gates on Wright Street, spoken different hellos and goodbyes, and I’ve yet to discover what all of these memories, achievements, emotions all mean. All I know is they impacted me today and molded me into the person I’m becoming. 

I’m glad to not be the girl I was yesterday, but I do miss her—her and the feeling of eternal youth that filled her veins everytime she stayed out past 9:30pm, got home from a band competition after midnight, or sat in the passenger’s seat of her friends’ very own cars for the first time. I miss the nostalgia that came with the unknown of tomorrow because I thought I’d be 15 forever.

I wish I could hug her when life didn’t feel worthy of a tomorrow because I know she’s too stubborn to leave her room as teary-eyed as she would be after long nights that followed her first heartbreaks. And I know going to school the next day was always painful, but I wish I would be able to hug her and make the process of healing just a little less painful.

Still, I’m so proud of her—her and her beautiful mess of a mind that didn’t let even the cruelest of moments taint the parts of her that still know how to forgive and reflect the love she desperately wanted to share on herself for a change. I’m proud of her for challenging herself to not worry about how others saw her for a change.

I’m terrified to meet the woman I’ll become tomorrow. Oh, but how I’m sure she will know everything. I will envy her knowledge and charisma. The confidence I’m sure that she’ll have gained from freeing herself from the shackles of a small town she’s been so desperate to escape. Oh, how I know despite the fear, the tears, and the hardships, that she will thrive and she will learn that the life she’s earned is her own beautiful gift to cherish. 

I’m sure a part of her will long for the feeling of November, the cat’s fluff beside her feet on colder nights, or the privacy of her own bathroom and wishing she could dip her feet in the pool on sleepless nights with her dog beside her. The feeling of home will be missed, I’m sure of it. 

The feeling of the band room after a fresh summer clean or late rehearsals in the winter time.

The feeling of room 1505 during 6th period after completing a deadline.

The feeling of being wanted and cherished with friends in my lowest moments. 

Somehow even the mirrors of the “nice” bathrooms treated her with open arms (with Ari by my side, of course.)

Hopefully, if all is well and all is right, home will find itself in a dorm room with her best friend beside her. New friends learning the quirks and millions of stories from a place she calls home, who maybe she can bring back one day to experience the magic of Selma Cinemas Tightwad Tuesday. 

I hope time treats her kindly and I hope the next four years show as much growth as the four I’ve experienced at Selma High. 

It’s been a wonderful ride, but all good things must come to an end. 

Until we meet again.