A day passes so quickly, time ticking so relentlessly. And in 7 days, a week has gone. Only 4 weeks, an entire month. 12 months, another year. Oh what to do… there aren’t enough hours in a day.
I can’t even begin to think of where I’ll be 5 months from now, taking flight. High school won’t be my home anymore. Everyone around me seems so ready to leave, so self-assured, eager to explore and expand and grow. I feel overwhelmed by the pressure to grow up. I just want to stay here, comfortable, tucked under my dad’s wing, sheltered… I should be ashamed, right? Ashamed at my own complacency. And I am. All the same, I don’t know if I should be guilty for loving the present day. People always live for the future or remain stuck in the past… but I’m so content with where I am today–the experiences that led me here, the hopeful possibilities of tomorrow–that I can’t bear to shed this skin I’m in. And do I have to? People say, “never change.” Is that possible?
Farewells are excruciating. I’m never ready to leave. I never say “goodbye” first.