here’s to goodbye

when I was twelve years old, as my mum pulled away from my primary school, I burst into tears.
up until that moment I hadn’t cried.
but as we pulled away, I couldn’t help but feel the easiest years were over,
and that high school would be absolutely shit.
I must have been a pretty fucking smart twelve year old,
because for the most part, I was pretty right.
high school wasn’t exactly great.
cold early mornings to catch the bus.
late nights.
skipping meals.
skipping class.
competitions.
short school dresses.
drifting around the school at lunch.
kissing Gerard in the corridors after the bell.
dating jocks.
sneaking out.
a phase of agnosticism.
getting off the bus and walking to the beach.
fights with girls.
taking too many photos.
and somehow managing to avoid first hand contact with alcohol.

Leaving that high school made me leave behind a lot of what had defined me.
again… there were a lot of tears.
for the people I’d met.
and for the lessons I had learned.
collegiate was a different scenario

Stressful.
prestigious.
expectations.
but an environment where it was okay to try hard
and to want to succeed.
it was here that I began to re-create the person I wanted to be one day.
I began to see my days in the context of the whole life I was leading.

And now…
as I filter through the ramblings of those who are also preparing for the week to come,
I find myself in a similar place to them.
every time I’ve thought about it I’ve felt these weird butterflies
unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
mainly because this is the biggest thing I’ve ever had to let go of.
these final weeks are what every single one of those years has amounted to…
all of those tests, and study revisions…
all of those public speaking lessons and essays and assignments and tears and tantrums and As and Cs…
all of it… has come down to these final breathing moments.

This time I find myself on the brink of tears.
yes, I’ll cry for the fear, I’ll cry for the people I’ve met and I’ll cry for what I have learnt.
but more than that I’ll cry for the finality of this week.
for reaching the completion of the biggest commitment I’ve made thus far.
for saying “yes… I’m fucking exhausted… but it was worth every moment. And I’d do it all again in a heartbeat”
for murmuring a goodbye, that I’ve looked forward to and dreaded for all of these years.

dear scared, worried and clingy 12 year old self
I hope you’re proud of what you became.
kindest regards,
your 18 year old self…
still scared, still worried, but completely ready.

here we go.
the beginning of a very drawn out end.

 

Advertisements

There are no comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: