That Someone

I really hate checking back here and realizing that it's been almost a week since I've written something. Unfortunately, the next three and a half weeks that (oh, G-d) represent the conclusion of my high school career are quickly beginning to resemble a very large spring being pushed into a very small thimble- something's got to give. Though I suppose I should be thankful; it's difficult to mourn graduation when you are grinding the finals millstone until your nose is raw.

Example A: Tommorow is the first part of the Advanced Placement English Exam. I'm not sure why I signed up for the thing, it's impossibly difficult and practically useless in terms of college credits. Or perhaps I do know why- I signed up to impress my teacher. Such touching motivation.

The exam is at eight o'clock in the morning. I will most likely go in with far too little information or time to have a chance to score well. I'm worried, but not for the test. I think I am worried because I should be worried. I should care about this, or at least try to. Everyone else does. Why am I missing this drive that seems to come to everyone else so terribly easily?

I feel like I am driving down a road, and at the end there is a sign that says "Graduation. Mature Persons Only." Only it isn't a place, just an abyss where everything safe and familiar is gone, and I have nothing to grab on to for support. In reality I know it isn't nearly so drastic, but the only framework I've ever really known is dissolving around me. What am I without high school, with something so similar yet so strange looming ahead of me?

It's almost as though I won't be myself any more. I'll be someone new and capable and unfamiliar, all of a sudden. Without warning or preparation I'll be someone grown up, comfortable and invincible in everything she does. Someone without fear, who doesn't need or enjoy the things I so take comfort in now.

It's ridiculous. It's impossible. But I can't believe how terrified I am of becoming that someone.