Ciao Bella!

Listening to: Wavin’ Flag by K’naan.

This last month has been a beautiful blur of moments. Actually no, allow me to correct myself: starting April 28th, when I stood in front of my church home for the past 7 years and mimed the words to You Love Me Anyways by the Sidewalk Prophets; sung the catchy tune of No Other Love by the Rush of Fools and almost cried preforming a benediction of By My Spirit, my life has become one long fast forward blur on a roller coaster of moments.

First, there was May with the Roof Concert and “Mifflin”; Prom with all our Single Ladies proma; the Color Run where Cassie became a hobo; and lastly our adventure at Yellow Puddle, where we peed and screamed and laughed and slept in the car. The pool opened. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that first heart-pounding moment in the chair. We had the Senior Honors Convocation. That night was pride, pride of myself, of my friends, of my peers, of all of us together, of what we’ve done and what we will do.

June came next, as we all know. There was the Senior Class party, a fake gambling opportunity created for us underage seniors. That rush of winning suddenly became understood. Then there was graduation, which was beautiful and heartbreaking and completely bittersweet. I cried and laughed. That moment of pride surged up from inside and it wrapped itself around my heart. All my family, blood and not blood, were there. They hugged me, supported me. I felt how truly loved I am.

I blinked and school was over. The last final was finished. That week or so in between that milestone and the next past too quickly. Before I could believe, we were sitting in the car in silence, driving to give Iida back. Or at least that’s what it felt like, a bit. Like we were giving her back, but I know now, removed from the intensity of the moment that that’s not how it was. She will always be ours, and we will always be hers. Shared memories and moments can tie people together for a lifetime, no matter how far away they are from each other. My heart broke that night though, and that’s something I fear can’t be undone.

Then there was pool, pool and more pool. I love my job, I really do. The other people I work with, the children, the free food–all of it makes me smile.

The one year anniversary since Panama came and went. Why must time be so evil and run?

And here I sit now, on my bed, the day before my birthday. It’s one of those days, a lazy day, when even the weather outside seems to want to take a break. I’m tired, I really truly am.

Everything is going to changing. Everything is changing. Everything has already changed.

I’m shopping for college, texting with my roommate. I’m cleaning out my room, putting memories into boxes, throwing away old school papers, grinning over discoveries. I can’t believe this moment is here, or is fast approaching. Either one, however you want to measure time, it doen’t matter. You grow up around the idea of college. You see it in the movies, your coaches that you idolize are in it, your parents talk about it. So do your teachers, and then suddenly, now suddenly, it’s here. It’s not their reality, but mine. I can’t quite seem to wrap my mind around that fact. I’m almost 18. I’ve always been the young one among my friends, and I would comfort myself by saying, “Yeah, but you’re still 17” as if that would stop this all from coming.

It didn’t and it won’t. College is coming and I have the usual feeling: a perfect mixture of excitement and agony. I want to go but I want to stay. I’m not ready to not see my family every day but yet I am. I’m scared of what the distance will do to my relationships with my friends. I’m scared of everything, of change. But yet I’m not. How could I be? It’s as natural as the sunlight and the only thing guaranteed in life, besides the end of it.

The point of this blog is to capture my emotions, my confusion, my learning, my discoveries, my heartbreaks, my joys, my everything while at school. I have yet to decide whether or not I’m going to share this with everyone or if it will be a just me blog. Either way, these moments should be captured, as should all change, both good and bad. Since it is in fact, the moments that make you who you are. And me who I am.


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