I am not ready


Liza McCarthy

A picture from the senior sunrise when I sat with my friends making memories

117 unfinished columns sit in my Google Drive. Some mere words that once were brilliant ideas, but there wasn’t enough time and now they seem like gibberish to me. I have so much I want to say and only about four more stories to write. I have too many people to thank, too many memories to share, too many lasts to cry over. 

Yes, I have been counting down the days until graduation since the first day of school, and, yes, I do have a countdown in my calculator telling me we have 20 school days left and 47 actual days left. That doesn’t mean I am 100% ready to graduate. 

I am not ready to leave those 117 columns left to collect dust in my Drive, or even be deleted—younger me had big dreams for them. I’m not ready to leave my friends behind—I lost so many last year, and if you’ve ever tried to contact me, you know I am not good at responding in a timely manner. 

For now, I will live and when these memories have passed, I’ll cherish them.

I am not ready to say goodbye to the first hour crew that joined me this year. I’m not ready for Nat, Emma, and Avery to be distant friends scattered across the country. They have taken me through the year and given me a remembrance of the community that is TCT;  The stories they tell and the memories we’ve made through this senior year. Bonding with Nat since last year, and Emma early in the morning, and Avery in general, your text last year about 365 days ago, and Mr. George with the squirrel statues that sit far off on a table. 

I’m not ready to just leave the French class that I’ve been with since freshman year. Through the quote books from Julia and the memories we’ve made over French music and funny skits. 

The days of laughter during APES and the mixture of creative writing and astronomy during third hour, and the fun things we talk about during lunch make school fun, along with all of my amazing teachers who work to make the content interesting and fun. 

I’m ready, but not ready to no longer need to get up at 6:45/7:00 a.m. in order to make it to school a half hour later. Or dealing with the parking lot or being scared of being hit or getting hit again. 

I’m not ready. 

I’m not ready.

I’m not ready. 

But I am, and that’s ok. I still have time. 

So for now, I will try to live life to the fullest. And even beyond that, I will keep looking forward. I will look forward to my future and keep moving forward. For now, I will live, and when these memories have passed, I’ll cherish them. I’ll remember and smile, move on without a tear. However cliché it is, I’ll keep moving forward.