I loved high school. Parts of it, at least. I came from a tiny private school which probably helped me to appreciate it even more. By my senior year, I was well-established, president of my favorite club, had a great group of friends, and even, in the most basic of definitions, popular.
Of course I didn't enjoy going to math class or doing my online science classes or waking up before 7am, but everything else I pretty much loved. Leaving this school was really hard for me. I had already started over at one school and I wasn't keen on doing it again. Going from the top to the bottom again seemed, and still seems, extremely scary.
So, on my first weekend back home, one of my top priorities was visiting my Alma Mater. It was the first time being back since I left graduation in June and it honestly felt as if I'd never left. I went at the end of the day and had a plan to say hi to only a few teachers. After catching up two administrators and two teachers I made my way down to the music wing where I spent, honestly, about 75 percent of my time. I chatted with my former choir teacher for two hours and we agreed that I should come back the following Monday to surprise the choir.
I signed in as a visitor and got a visitor's pass which felt really strange. Then I made my way to the choir room 15 minutes before choir started to ensure my surprise. I talked to my choir teacher and the current president of choir met me in a practice room. When the bell rang, I cam out and started warm-ups like I had every day last year.
Some paused in confusion, some went with it, and some, after a pause, softly yelled my name; I was even embraced in a hug by one of my great friends. It felt great. It felt so great to be back where people knew who I was and among common friends and familiar faces. This is my choir.
And then, in the most bittersweet of moments, it wasn't.
They started singing songs I didn't know and talked about fundraisers for a trip I was't going on. This wasn't my choir anymore. My choir belongs solely to the 2015-2016 school year. I belong somewhere else now.
And while I'll always be a Colonial and I'll definitely come back to sing the Hallelujah Chorus until I have grey hair, I realized it was time for me to let go. High school was a good time passed and college is a good time waiting to be had.
