Graduation

Graduation was nothing like I expected. I expected to feel out of place--I hadn't met two of my fellow graduates, and hadn't seen the other 5 in almost a year. Yet, I couldn't have made the night much better.

I spent the night before at my best friend's house. I also spent most of Saturday with her, too, because we haven't seen each other in so long. Somehow, we thought it would be a good idea to be outside for a couple hours before the ceremony. Well, I got a little sunburned. Oops.

After the burning, while we were getting ready to meet my family at our hotel, I realized I'd be graduating in 3 hours. Yikes. But it still wasn't real to me.

I started really freaking out when I was going over my speech about twenty minutes before the ceremony. I was pacing and reading, scribbling and highlighting.

I circled up to pray with the other graduates, and then we lined up to walk in. Since we were ordered by last name, I was next to last. That meant I had 6 slideshows and speeches to sit, hyperventilate, and stress through. And I nearly did all that. I was on the verge of tears during a couple speeches given by parents, but I always pulled myself back from the edge. But there was nothing stopping the floodgates from breaking when my slideshow started.

For the last year I've been working towards this moment; for the last semester I've been hyper aware of the impending doom. The last week has been unreal, driving across the country, seeing old hang outs and friends. It felt like I had never left, like nothing had changed. But something had. We had all grown through another year. Graduation--the thing we've looked forward to since who-knows-when--was here, real.

It hit me when the pictures started showing that this wasn't a practice, this wasn't a dream: I'd reached my goal. We'd reached our goal. I was almost bawling.

I got up afterwards, and gave my speech. "I thought I wouldn't cry at my graduation," I said through my tears and laughter. I hate public speaking, and I was shaking and trying to keep from crying, while trying to balance on four inch heels. But everyone I talked to later complimented that speech. I passed my tears on to several others through my words.

The party afterwards was the best party I've ever been to. I was blessed with the presence of lots of my nearest, dearest family and friends. I couldn't have asked for a better night or better graduating class (good luck to our predecessors, you'll have a hard time following that act I think).

I'm sitting in bed at a hotel 4 hours away from that small town--the town I thought I could do without, the town that I had second thoughts about returning to. But now, all I want is to go back. We're being scattered to the ends of the earth, and who knows when we'll all meet again. Life is changing, and fast. We're growing up and out and moving and shaping the world. All I want right now is to go back, though. To go back and hug the necks of the people I love, and never let go. To go back and see their faces more than once a year. To take back all the times I took for granted.

Now, we have the promise of never going back and always moving forward. We have potential in our lungs and determination in our feet. We have love in our hands and strength in our hearts. We will never look back, only forward. And it's never "good bye," or even "see you later," but always "see you soon" because we will see each other soon.