Tomorrow is my last day of high school.
One more final, and I will have achieved everything that I've spent the last four years working towards.
This is the part where I'm supposed to be overjoyed or have some amazing emotional advice for all those who don't believe that senior year will go by as quickly as it does.
And I really want to be able to say to that I am celebrating the last school night I will ever have, by reminiscing with my amazing friends and revising for my government final tomorrow. But the truth is I've spent the last thirty minutes texting my best friend Mady in tears, because I'm not ready. I'm not ready to be done. I'm not ready to never see my friends and teachers again. And I'm not ready to move on from the person that my high school experience has made me into.
I really wish that I could have that moment in movies when the girl gets to talk to herself from the past. I want thirty seconds with the person I was when I walked through the doors of McCutcheon for the first time.
I wish I could tell her how much she would grow and change.
I wish I could warn her how many friends she'd loose.
I wish I could talk to her about how many times the adults around her would fail her.
But life is funny, in that you don't get the lesson until you deal with the heartache.
So I degrees.
I've never been good at organization.
In fact, there are a hundred things I'm not very good at.
Cooking, sewing, running, hula-hoops, science, etc....
The list goes on and on.
But one thing I have always had a knack for is my words.
I like to write. I like to express myself through words.
I think words have a power that none of us can master through any other way.
But I can't find a word for the feeling in my chest right now.
But whatever it is, it's making breathing a little difficult.
