Well, guys, I did it. I graduated. A mere three hours ago actually. I have officially made my grand exeunt from Cook High School. I’m going ahead and accepting the fact that this is going to be extremely basic and corny. This is my formal apology for that in advance.

At midnight, a friend of mine sent a text to most of our senior class that simply read, “We graduate today. I love you all.” Before that moment, the enormity of the occasion had not hit me. Even then, it didn’t fully register, but I was forced to realize something: I truly love every single person in my graduating class.

I’m not at all trying to be overly sentimental. I genuinely mean that. It didn’t just happen easily or quickly, but somehow over time the people in my grade level had become a surrogate family to me. I have forged relationships with these people that truly mean the world to me. Our experiences together have not always been ideal, but they have fashioned and formed us into the people we are today. We have grown immensely over the past four years, and while the transitions have not always been easy or enjoyable, they have always been necessary.

I had a very interesting high school experience. I live in one county, but attended high school in another. That’s all a story for another day. My reason for mentioning this is to point out the fact that while most of my fellow graduates had 12 to 18 years together, I only had four. But I never felt that way.

The reality of graduating has not set in. I’ve been told it never truly will. Sitting through the ceremony felt surreal. It was as if it was we were only practicing for the real event. I sat between two of my best friends and listened to speeches delivered by my classmates. I even read the class poem, but still none of it felt real.

I have yet to fully realize that the place that has been a home away from home for me for four years now is no longer mine. No longer will I walk those halls. No longer will I converse daily with the teachers who have had an indelible influence on who I am as a person. No longer will I see all my friends and classmates regularly.

My high school has been a haven for me. I realize most people don’t love their time in high school. The majority of people reject the notion that these are the best or most important four years of your life. I’m not sure if they’ll be the most important or the best, but I do know that they were wholly good. Even when they weren’t good, they still were because they got me to the point I am at today.

I’m one of the few people in my graduating class that is venturing far for college, but that does not mean that I have loved my high school experience any less. If anything, it means that I trust that my experiences have begotten a version of myself that is ready to take on the world. And as corny as it sounds, I’ll take my high school experiences and the people who made them memorable with me wherever I go.

There’s a Joey Potter quote that pretty perfectly surmises how I feel about graduating. It states, “And now that this scared little girl no longer follows me wherever I go, I miss her. I do. 'Cause there are things I wanna tell her ... to relax, to lighten up, that it is all going to be okay. I want her to know that meeting people who like you, who understand you, who actually accept you for who you are, will become an increasingly rare occurrence. These people who contributed to who I am, they are with me wherever I go, and as history gets rewritten in small ways with each passing day, my love for them only grows. Because the truth is ... it was the best of times. Mistakes were made, hearts were broken, harsh lessons learned, but all of that has receded into fond memory now. How does it happen? Why are we so quick to forget the bad and romanticize the good? Maybe it's because we need to believe that the time we spent together actually meant something, that we were there for each other in a time in our lives that defined us all, a time in our lives that we will never forget. I can't swear this is exactly how it happened. But this is how it felt.”

Years from now, when my history has been rewritten by the receding waves of time, I probably won’t remember all the specifications and details that comprised high school, but I will always remember how it felt.