We got our caps and gowns last week.

I fall asleep every night with my Ranger green gown staring at me from a hanger in my closet, asking me—berating me on—what my next move will be. 

There’s a countdown that keeps lessening in almost every single one of my teachers’ classrooms, one that is winding down to senior spring break—something I’ve been dying for since it was planned last summer.  

And with that countdown comes the fact that the seniors only have so many days left. The beginning of second semester to spring break is deemed as “the big stretch,” one consisting of long days and long nights buried in school work. 

But after that, it’s a breeze. Maybe an AP test here and there, but that will be covered by the excitement of graduation nearly in sight. 

My FX friends are deep into the inner workings of the senior video, and my crew, The Central Trend, is diving into The Senior Edition—the first one we’ve had in two whole years. People are committing to their next four years; spring sports are starting. I am getting invites to grad parties, reminding myself that I need to find a white dress for graduation and a different dress for my grad party. People are ready.

And I feel so unready. As much as I loathe spending seven hours of my day in the building, it’s my norm; it’s my constant. It’s something I’ve been doing—something I’ve been used to—since Mrs. Waterfield’s kindergarten class at Pine Ridge. And that era is finally coming to an end.

I’ve already completed one out of the three dance competitions we have this season. Something that is going to be such a difficult farewell already seems to be waving goodbye to me. 

My friends are showing me their glorious Prom dresses—gowns drenched in beauty and class, something I could never top. But I haven’t even started shopping for my last high school dance. Perhaps it’s because I’m ignoring the fact, trying to push it aside, that I only have one more dance as a student of FHC. 

Or maybe it’s because I’m set on finding the perfect dress, one that I’ll look back on when I’m older to reminisce upon the good ole days.

Or maybe I’m overthinking and I’m just a slow shopper.

Regardless, life is moving so fast, and I’m not able to catch up to time. My brother is starting drivers training, and my sister is starting to wear crop tops. I never prepared myself for this.

I never prepared myself for the fact that I was going to miss out on watching my brother and sister grow up—things like my brother getting his license and my sister graduating middle school. And although my puppies are at a ripe age, I am going to miss being showered in their love and affection every time I walk through my backdoor. I’m going to miss pulling into my childhood home and seeing my senior yard sign and my dance team yard sign. 

I am going to miss it all. Time, please slow. 

-Avery