ON MY

They say high school will be the best four years of your life.

I don’t know who “they” are, but “they” were wrong.

High school has been the hardest four years of my life. Especially this last one. I never expected my little 14-year-old self to go through the things I have today. I lost friendships. I lost relationships. I lost a part of myself.

And I don’t think I will ever gain them back. All I can do is move on, something I have gotten somewhat good at since starting high school. I guess that’s one thing I can thank this experience for.

Now, I sit here, itching as my last few days of high school approach me. I’m itching for the freedom of my senior summer, for the freedom of college, for the freedom of meeting new people and having new experiences.

Leaving high school isn’t exactly something I’m sad about.

In our last choir concert of the year, myself, alongside the 13 other seniors in my ensemble, sang the second verse of The Road Home, a piece our teacher, Mrs. Klotz, picked out three years ago and has used ever since.

The song’s lyrics are emotional and touching, and every year, seniors end the spring concert in tears. But not me. At least, that’s what I told myself before we sang it. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I was practically sobbing when we finished the piece.

These lyrics were what got me: There is no such beauty