You'd think I'd be smart enough to know everything would not be all hunky-dory during the four years I spent meandering the halls of my school. I honestly thought high school would stretch on forever. Every torturous moment I spent hiding my words, my love, my dreams and my opinions stretched on until I was sure I would be dead before 18. Well, here I am. For sure, some part of me died before a piece of paper signified my accomplishment of surviving the last four years, but I haven't seen a flimsy notice declaring my death yet, so I guess I'm in the clear. Now, listen. I've got something to tell you.

High school is not the best four years of your life.

Do me a favor and save your bad-acting gasps and quit clutching at the space where your heart is supposed to be under your T-shirt. The awkward, painful years you spend thinking you're a hot-shot as you roam the halls don't matter. Surviving that one really scary teacher's class is nothing when you think about what's ahead.

Now, I don't want to call anyone a liar, because I'm sure somebody found a great deal of joy in the teachers scrutinizing half-completed homework, the under-eye bags that became a hot commodity and the administration scowling at the exposed skin of girls who dare wear a tank on a blistering spring day. Seriously, what's not to love?

The ugly part of high school only affects the brave, and the brave are the kids who dare open their arms to the change plaguing the most horrendous years of all of us. Growing up meant showing everyone how weak we could be because everything that was ever a part of us was slowly stripped away like fat from meat. All of this hurt, but we're better because of it. We let the bad be taken away in the hopes that we'd be good enough for something, someday.

Not everything turned to sunshine, though. You hurt people because you thought that was better than hurting you, and you dated that shadow of a boy who only gave himself to you when he was sober enough to realize you were still here. You almost lost your best friend, but maybe it doesn't matter in the end because you'll lose her to the ocean in a few months. Everything goes away, even the bad.

That's why you keep that ring on your finger, the one your daddy got you because you really wanted it, and you'd wear it, not because that stupid salesman with a name that belonged to a castle talked you into it. You'd see through his tricks next year, though, because you knew more about money. You felt guilty for wanting that ring so bad, but you've worn it every day since you got it. You don't know why. You'll take it with you to college. But you won't take your letterman's jacket with you anywhere.

That, you hang in your closet, and you think maybe one day you'll give it to your little sister, but you both know you'll just shove it into a box and forget about it. How was it so charming at the end of junior year, but that time a year later you were disappointed you'd cared so much?

Admit it, you're ashamed. You're disappointed for caring so much about the stupid football rivalry, but you'd gone to all the games even though you didn't really like football. You were sold on the idea of buying a $200 dress for prom even though you knew you'd only wear it that one time. You were turned off to weddings, you were turned off to boys and more than anything, you were sorry you'd ever existed.

All you ever did was hurt people. How could you think you're so important?

OK, now leave all of that behind, because high school is over - and if you ever bring it up, everyone will smile and pretend like it didn't happen. We'll only remember the good parts, because those didn't do anything memorable to us.

Here's to high school. Thank goodness it's over.