Lola’s POV: My Very Last Summer

As I prepare to endeavor in the joys and the terror of starting my last summer reading book, I’m suddenly filled with this angst and sadness that I’ve never felt before. The smell of freshly sharpened pencils and the excitement of hearing all our summer stories along with getting “shushed” by our homeroom teacher. The feeling you get when you see a new face in a crowd that was once so familiar. That’s what I feel like today. All the jitter throughout the years, the tears and sadness that scream, “I can’t wait to graduate.” Oh, my God, I take it back. I feel like all this time I’ve been waiting for something, but now that it’s here I don’t want it anymore. Could I be, dare I say it, afraid?

Being the last summer of my High School career, I’ve come to notice just how comfortable I’ve had it. Oh, how I’ve complained of the work, and waking up early, and that one teacher that I’m just convinced is trying to make me fail. Just hoping and praying that “I hope these years will go by fast” because “I just wanna hurry up and graduate.” This summer has gone by particularly fast and has broken me down on a deeper level. Of course who isn’t excited to start their senior year? All the hype for Prom, the excitement for senior parties and final celebrations. But this is where my excitement goes to sh*t. The halls I’ve known for several years of my life and the teachers that have both comforted me and brought me to tears will no longer live a school bell away. There are no more class bonding activities. Everyone will be so into their resumes and applications that they’ll forget that time goes by, and in the blink of an eye, it’s going to be over for us. We’re going to throw our caps into the baby blue sky, and we’re out those halls and into the future.

I don’t want to imagine the last time that we hear the dismissal bell. The last time that we sit down as a class for our homeroom meetings, the last time that we open our lockers, and the last time that we walk into a class and hand in our assignments. It’s not that I don’t feel grown, or mature enough to enter this stage, but I feel like I have been rushing to this moment and now there’s no going back. I find myself re-thinking, enjoying 7th grade instead of being embarrassed to be the little kids. I miss being excited for the first day of school over and over, and over again. Now that I’m here, though it hasn’t even started, I feel like it’s over. So as I walk in this year, and attempt to keep my worry in mind to not let time slip out of my hands, I will get through it with flying colors. I will cherish every moment, keep everything, hug more often, and stress less because at the end of the day, time is precious and while we might miss an assignment or two—time is never going to retrace. It’s our time to grow, to explore, and to learn. Although my fear of change is incredibly overpowering, my excitement to lead and blossom grows greater. This is my final year. Shaking, and anxious, I step into the beginning of the end of a chapter.