“Where’d all the time go / It’s starting to fly / See how the hands go / Waving goodbye” – Dr. Dog
This quote adorns the front page of my eighth-grade yearbook, and now I can’t find a more suitable quote to sum up my first year in high school. So much has changed in a year, but not the feeling of time slipping down the drain as memories allude to my grasp.
Eleven months ago, I moved across the country. Eleven months ago, I found my best friend. Eleven months ago, I crossed the border that would become the defining moment of my childhood. Eleven months ago feels like years ago, and it feels like yesterday.
Isn’t time funny like that?
I can’t really decide how I feel about the time going by. It went by so fast. I’m about to get my driver’s permit, take my first AP exam, and finish my first year of high school. I still remember the way the shampoo smelled when I washed my hair the first day we moved in. I remember the undulating feeling of dread that rested in my stomach for a solid month after the first day of school.
But it also feels like ages ago. I barely recognize myself in photos from last summer. I can see the nervousness and loneliness barely concealed under my smile on the day of freshman orientation that has since disappeared.
I used to love the end of school. Don’t get me wrong, I still do; summer and warmth and freedom are rapidly approaching. This year, I’m equal parts dreading and yearning for the last day of school. Already a whole year of high school, gone. I have but four years of these formative years of my life.
And one is already gone.
It was long and tiresome, but also adventurous and new, and it’s already over. How can my freshman year of high school already be over?
It just started.
This year has far surpassed my expectations. Long nights of studying translated to grades I’m proud of. I met the people who complete my life, and my other half. I started anew, and now I’ve never felt more comfortable with my life and the people in it.
So much has changed in a year, and it feels like my life is perfectly synchronized while also falling away from me.
I wish I could slow things down to savor each moment that I miss. The little things that I skip past, the compliments, deep conversations, or jokes. The hangouts and the sleepovers and trips to the mall.
So where’d all the time go? I’m not sure if I understood the true meaning of time flying by in eighth grade when I skipped past the cover of my yearbook to find photos of myself within the glossy pages. I think I do now, though, as this first year of high school is over before it even feels like it started.
I’m sure I’ll have a new definition for time flying by as I write my last column before graduating high school, but for now, I’ll reminisce on my first year of high school and the parts of my life beginning to fall into perfect places.
