In a Year, I'll Miss This

I'm worried about graduating. In about a year, I'll miss what I have now.

I don't mean to say that I'll miss the bullshit decisions of the Cheatham County school system, or the dreadful lack of vegetarian options in the cafeteria, or the new librarian who will, to me, never be able to replace our beloved- and fired- Mrs. Wuller.

No, I won't miss any of that.

But I'll miss getting to see my friends every day. I'll miss cuddling with Jonathon in the alcove in the front lobby while Hammy and that guy whose name I don't know scream not-quite-rude things at other people and I slowly down my coffee for the day. I'll miss complaining with Poland (a girl I know whose actual surname is Zurawicki) during seventh period about the idiots in first period. I'll miss my overbearing dictator/mother of a theatre instructor; I'll miss my nerdy role model history teacher whose student teacher won't quit calling me a hipster. I'll miss Grayson and his snide remarks about capitalism, Marissa, and me. I'll miss my calculus teacher and his Southern genius.

Even the things that are brand new to me right now, I'm sure I'll miss sorely.

I'll miss Ty, the skinny white starving-artist-to-be with the nerdy glasses and the giant music collection and the ability to play the ukelele. I'll miss the snarky new biology teacher who plays it by ear and is so much how I want to be in ten years.

I'll miss so much, and that's why I want to chronicle it.