Freshmen Year?

February 3, 2010
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You’re scared to enter.
You’re scared that you’re leaving your innocence behind and that your mind won’t be able to fathom being in the “big leagues”.
Scared that you won’t make it out the same and that maybe it’s for the best.
You’re scared that maybe the “10 years from now, you won’t even remember your best friends name” rumor is actually true.
You know that you don’t want to change, but you know you’re going to.
You laugh when you think about how much you hated middle school when you were there because you know you would kill to have another first day walking those exact halls.
You can’t believe you’re growing up.
It wasn’t supposed to happen so fast.
Nobody seems to notice except you.
Maybe you’re thinking too much.
Just stay calm.
You have responsibilities and have to listen to your father give you the “This is not middle school anymore and you can’t be slacking. You’ve got to be on top of your game this year. Remember, if you start off good, everything from now will seem easy. You need to listen to me, I know” speech.
You know the speech is coming because you remember him saying it to your older sisters.
You talk about how you think it’s going to be in the summer.
Even though you know it’s not going to be that way, your holding on to a pinch of hope.
You get angry with your friends when they say they aren’t scared to go to high school.
You tell them that you aren’t either but inside you’re hoping for more time.
Are you the only one that feels like this?
It really hits you when you get your schedule.
No classes with the people you wanted classes with.
Which probably means no lunches with the people you wanted lunch with.
You’re running out of time.
No time to just forget about growing up.
It’s happening.
You’re transforming.
You don’t know how to stop it.
You can’t stop it.
It rains on the first day.
So you and your sister get a ride from your daddy.
No, you get a ride from your father.
You’re being too dramatic.
Out the truck, up the steps.
You hesitate to grab the door.
You look back as your “father” pulls off.
You want to run back and say “NO! I don’t want to go daddy, please take me with you!”
You take a breath, fix your hair, pull your bag on your shoulder and walk in.
Your sister shows you where to go and leaves.
Your sister is so grown now.
A senior.
While you’re just a freshman.
First day turns to first month.
First month turns to first semester.
You made it through half your freshman year.
You’re proud to know you’re the same.
You have to get used to the name though.

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