Watching Pals Graduate Isn’t Easy On Junior

How depressing it is for juniors to watch the senior class above them graduate. As a class of ‘96er, I sat through my brother’s ‘95 graduation and cheered, afterward sulking about how I had an entire year left at Ferris. I believe my senioritis, which began during my sophomore year, worsened quite a bit as I watched happy grads clasp their diplomas.

I am restless to leave. I don’t want to sit around class and watch snotty girls apply their make-up all day long, or listen to guys talk in booming, show-offy voices about how rad the Friday night keg was and how incredibly sloshed they were.

A lot of that nonsense takes place in high school. Then again, it occurs everywhere. I still want to leave.

My restlessness, however, is not the true reason the ‘95 graduation was, in a bizarre sense, painful. My brother and more than a handful of very close friends will be drifting slowly out of my life. It kind of hurts.

I suppose I’m used to waking up in the morning and seeing my brother. After all, we’ve established this ritual: I eat breakfast while he takes a shower, I take a shower while he eats breakfast. In the fall, I’ll have the freedom to take a shower while I’m eating breakfast, if I choose to.

Such liberation feels weird. I won’t even have him to fight with occasionally when he purposely attempts to annoy me, or to have him cheer me up when I’m acting moody.

My brother’s departure won’t be the only hole in my life, although his particular void is no doubt bigger than the others. Past boyfriends, recent boyfriends, confiding girl friends and just all-around-fun-to-hang-out-with pals will be departing to places as close as SFCC and Western Washington or as distant as North Carolina and Boston.

Wherever they go, however, all of them will be leading new and exciting lives. Although memories of Ferris and other high schools have a tendency to remain as vivid as a palette, friendships have a tendency to waver into a fog.

So, to all you guys and gals I love who graduated, and even to the ones I don’t know, I hope all goes well with you. I just wanted to write this missive (even though it is a little bit cheesy) to let all of you know it has been great knowing you. You guys don’t need me to tell you good luck, most of you don’t need the luck at all.

“I’d never yell good luck at anybody,” wrote J.D. Salinger in “The Catcher in the Rye.” “It sounds terrible when you think about it.”

And to Corey, Mike, both of the Travs, Steve, Ryan, Emily, Conrad, Britty, Adam, Kerri, Stephanie, Bryan, Nancy, Aaron and J.P. and all you others I know I momentarily forgot and will hate myself for later: I’ll miss ya.