Dear Junior Year,
I'm not ready. I do not wish to bid you farewell because if I do, I'll have to face the harsh reality that I will be a senior. I'm not ready for that responsibility. I'm not ready for the responsibility of being incredibly close to the realm of being a real adult.
You were good to me. You provided me with the snippet of being a "kind of" real adult. You showed me what it is like to live in my first house by myself, to have to provide groceries for myself and that if I spend all my money on Bud Light, I will probably face sheer starvation. You taught me that you indeed can survive on eggs alone and that Taco Bell does not do separate orders in the drive-thru after 10 p.m.
I'm not ready to dive into senior year because I'm not ready to say goodbye to all the memories I've made here. I don't want to leave this little college town yet, I don't want to be separated from all my friends, or looking at big girl jobs or grad school. I'm perfectly content with hanging onto the final year of my youth.
It scares me that the next years of my life after graduation are going to be so different and drastic and frightening. I'm not ready to bid farewell to my junior year because I'm not ready to grow up.
I hope the moments pass slow because I'm not ready for you senior year. I'm still hanging onto being a junior. It has been academically the hardest year of my life, but I'm OK with holding on just a few more weeks.
Thanks for the memories.





















