My brother just started his junior year a couple of days ago, which is really had to believe because part of me still sees him as that annoying eight year old who enjoyed trashing my room when he got mad. Actually, that might have been the other way around, but whatever.
So anyway, watching my little bro tackle the most hellish year of high school reminded me of own time there. I’m not one of those people who looks back on high school with fondness. It produced some great memories and great friends, but overall it was the kind of mediocre experience that I was glad to get the hell over with. Maybe it was all the stupid movies and books or maybe it’s because I’m socially handicapped, but all the supposedly iconic high school moments fell way short of expectations. Like prom, for example. Or Grad Night.
The last day was bizarre. I think part of the reason is that it was just so normal. You’d expect it to be all beautiful and bittersweet and shit, but in reality it was just like every other day of the last four years…except for the superficial goodbyes and obligatory yearbook signings and the notebook-throwing fest. I remember feeling all weird and fuzzy inside when I woke up that morning, at once sad and excited that I won’t be waking up at fucking 6.30 for school ever again. But as soon as I sat down in Calc class that feeling was gone. Like, I knew it was the last time I would ever sit in that seat but I just didn’t feel anything. When I was younger, I used to wonder how I’d act on the last day. Laughing? Crying? Taking selfies with everyone? Just something out of the ordinary to prove that the last four years actually meant something. Instead, I kind of just went through the motions, hugged people I barely talked to and wrote meaningless bullshit in those expensive ass yearbooks. And when I walked home that afternoon, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that it ended the way it did, not the way I expected it to.
I guess in a way I was sad when high school was ended. Sad because I wasn’t sad. Sad because I didn’t make enough out of that four-year experience to either love or hate it. In hindsight, I suppose it’s no surprise that it ended so anticlimactically. There won’t be a legendary ending without a memorable journey. And nothing’s gonna count if you don’t make it count.
Hopefully in three years time I’ll have a very different last day.