I watch as the countdown begins,

the clock running to its long-awaited finish line – midnight.

An anticipatory audience counts down,

as if the numerical chant is their anthem.

“10!”

Like my volleyball jersey number,

from the sport I will never play again.

“9!”

Reminding me of freshman year or grade nine,

when I was afraid of change and the intimidating upperclassmen.

“8!”

For the number of months I have left,

when I must regrow my roots outside my comfort zone at college.

“7!”

Reminding me where I will be at 7:00 on May 2nd,

my final school dance to look forward too.

“6!”

The number of family members I have,

including the people I will inevitably move away from this year.

“5!”

Representing the five months I have,

until I put on the yellow cap and gown and walk across my school’s stage.

“4!”

For the beginning of my four years of college,

arguably the most influential period of my life.

“3!”

Reminding me of the third and final trimester I will complete this year,

marking the transition to semesters and adulthood.

“2!”

Like all the serious, life-changing, and mature choices I must make,

decisions with only two options. 

“1!”

For the one wish I have this year:

I experience as deeply as possible in 2026.

“Happy New Year!”