Thoughts from a High School Senior

Katie Huffman, Editor-in-Chief

Today was the first day that I cried real, painful and awful tears about my senior year. It wasn’t because I feel gypped. It wasn’t because I don’t get to walk the line next month. It wasn’t because my $400 prom dress will not leave my closet. It wasn’t because I feel like I have worked too hard to receive what is nothing in return. 

It’s because I realized I have to move on. 

I have to somehow deal with the fact that never again will I see my friends every day in class or in the hallway. I have to be okay with never sitting through a class with the best teachers in the world again. And yes, I know every senior class has to go through this part of it, but I didn’t get the chance to say my goodbyes, or take in the final moments of actually being in high school. I didn’t know Friday, March 13 would be my last day in the life I have known for the past four years. Or that every day after that would be anything but normal. 

My time in high school has been some of the best years of my life. I have accomplished so many things I never would have dreamed of before, and am proud of the young adult I have become. I will always cherish the people, and these four years, that have been a very fundamental part of who I am. But, a new life is ahead. One of independence and endless possibilities. A life nothing close to the one I’m living now. 

Change is scary, and it’s even worse when you don’t fully know what to expect. I will be a first-generation college student, so this whole transition is new to my entire family. My parents are getting ready to send me off on my way to start what will be the rest of my life, and I have to come to terms with leaving them. 

I swear I have the most annoying brother on planet earth, but I love him more than anything. I’ll miss randomly picking him up when he gets out of school and going to get Canes. I’ll miss helping him with his homework, and getting frustrated and yelling at him because he can’t stop humming a song or moving one single part of his body. I’ll miss yelling over his yells at his computer monitor as he’s playing video games. The hardest part though, is realizing that I won’t be here for him. He will have to adjust to life without me just as much as I will without him. 

The clock is ticking, and time isn’t slowing down for any of us. We will be forced to move on, but for now I will try my best not to. I’ll cry another time or two, or three, and reminisce on everything that I miss. I’ll soak in what I can, and try to appreciate being a(n) (online) high school student a little longer.