For the past 17 years, I have tossed around the word goodbye as if it is absolutely meaningless. I am capable of saying the word in five different languages, yet it still doesn’t manage to cross my mind as something significant. Each day I am guilty of taking this word for granted. Every morning before I leave for school, I wave goodbye to my parents only to return a few hours later. Before I leave on an occasional vacation, I say goodbye to my beloved dogs whom I will be reunited with in a week. When school breaks for summer, I hug my friends goodbye only to see them again at the start of the school year. Until now, goodbye has simply translated to “see you soon” or “until next time.” Come June 13, however, saying goodbye will not be such a simple task.
On graduation, not only will we have to say an actual, meaningful goodbye to the many people we have met over the years but also to the comfort of our homes and everyday lives, which will never quite be the same. I know it may sound as though I am traveling to a foreign country, when truly I will only be a 45 minute, SoCal traffic-filled drive away proudly sporting my cardinal and gold, but the reality is I cannot make my daily run to Health Nut and Coffee Bean or even receive a reassuring hug from my mom when I’m having an off day. I can tell myself and my friends, some of which I have known since the Bay Laurel Elementary School days, we will see each other over breaks or grab lunch one weekend, but in reality I plan to only call two or three of those people, not because I do not want to see the others but rather our lives will deviate so much that we just lose touch with one another.
Over the course of three years, I strolled through the doors of room H214, only to become accustomed to the daily Journalism routine and various friendships forged over the years. So on August 26, when I walk through the doors of Annenberg, I will be overwhelmed with a bittersweet sensation. Bitter because I will leave my past behind, yet sweet as I will begin a whole new adventure.
So, I guess this is goodbye Calabasas High School. These past four years have been real.
