I check the calendar day-by-day, crossing off each one as I go.
This is done with excitement because I know the day is coming. The day
when I will proudly walk across the stage as a graduate of my high school.
I already envision my family and friends standing, getting on their feet and
cheering as loudly as they can when they hear my name read. Everything
finally seems to be falling into place, each little piece of the puzzle fit together.
Sometimes, though, I forget what’s really important. When
my senior year started, I thought to myself: “It can’t get over soon enough.”
Each day seemed to go by in a slow painful agony as I drug myself out
of bed. But when I would get to school I was surrounded by my friends.
Some were freshmen, some sophomores, some juniors, and even
seniors like myself all gathered together in the cafeteria at one table.
Sometimes we wouldn’t all sit together, everyone would be scattered
in different places. I’d go around to everyone and talk, eat breakfast,
and haul my backpack to my locker. Those first thirty-five minutes
each day helped me to get through the rest of it.
That’s when it hits me. After I leave this year, I’ll
probably never see any of these people again. Everyone will
be scattered, but this time it won’t be a few steps away to
a table. It’ll be counties, states, or even countries away.
Years will go by and not a word from some of them while
others stay close. I want to remember the feeling I have
each day at that breakfast table. The laughs, the smiles,
even the tears. But most of all I want to remember the people
who helped me get to my senior year. Those friends that
picked me up when I was down, made me laugh when
all I wanted to do was cry, who’d help me with my
homework or even offer a word of advice.
These people have become more like
my own family. Every day that was a struggle
I was never alone. I always had someone
there. They treated me with kindess,
compassion, and understanding. They
didn’t have to do this. They could have
just as easily walked away at any time.
But they didn’t. They chose to be there,
and like my family always does they made
me feel special. Like I was no different than
anyone else. In their eyes I was myself and
I was perfect to them.
So before I say goodbye to my school
forever, I’ll do what I can. Get phone numbers,
addresses. Email, anything I can get my hands
on to keep in contact. I’ll stay in touch as often
as possible and make sure my friends realize that
I haven’t forgotten them, as I’m sure they’ll
remember me. Friendship is a gift that can
last forever. This I believe.
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