I swear if I could do high school all over again, I would. I know it's a crazy thought but I am just realizing now that I know so many more things then I did when I was a freshman. I would make differant desicions, I bet I would be valedictorian, and Emerson would have begged me to come to their college. And maybe I'd be sitting on the stage at Graduation instead of being squashed between two people that don't shower in the third row. And maybe people would recognize how hard I worked, and maybe I would be part of student senate and senior counsel, and I probably would have been part of prom comittee and video yearbook. I definitley would have wrote for the newspaper and made a fancy cover for the lit mag. I would have got plenty of scholarships and pats on the back. Then maybe on Monday I would graduate satisfied with the job I had done, and I could tell myself that I did the best anyone could do and that all my hard work had paid off. Yes, if I could wish on a star or twitch my nose or caorse a genie out of his bottle I would go back to my first day of high school and I would say Hi I'm Estee Atzbi and I am probably the smartest person in this school so get over it...wanna be friends? Me and my silly pipe dreams. High school is over and I have never felt so unfulfilled in my life.
On Monday at eleven in the morning I will file into the sovreign bank arena alongside 725 people that I don't really like, most of them I don't like soley because I never had the chance to get to know, and I'm not okay with that. On Monday morning I am going to watch the wrong person give a speech about hard work and dedication, while I sit in a plastic chair cursing under my breath because I know what I have to say is more important. After about two and a half rows of people,(a quarter of which I never even knew existed) a vice principal which I have never been formally introduced to will read my perfectly printed name off of a 3x5 index card, seconds after I hand it to him. He'll probably stumble over my last name, and I'll smile like I always do when that happens, then I'll shake his sweaty hand; infested with about 30 other peoples germs, and he'll hand me an empty case. Because we've practiced it repeatedly, I will walk to the sloppy x taped to the floor about 5 inches infront of the stairway, pose for my final high school photo and take my first step as an alumni of Old Bridge High School. While I should be thinking of the future on the way back to my seat; I can't help but pray that I don't fall in my fancy new heels while I'm trying to gracefully make some sort of impression; after all I am being watched by an arena full of proud parents, old geezers, grumpy teachers, and countless other stereotypical family memebers that don't really give a shit about me. I'm sure I will quickly look to the left, desperatley seeking a familiar face, maybe my family maybe a friend, anyone I can send a quick wave to, for the sole purpose of reassuring myself that after 4 years of high school I have found some sense of belonging. Sitting back down in my seat I'll do my best to hold my breathe because even on this "blessed day" many of my peers couldn't have the decency to practice proper hygeine. For the next 45 minutes I'll twiddle my thumbs and memorize every imperfection in my dress, every flawed step taken by the fool up at the podium, I'll see it all, because I really have nothing better to do. Not a thing can come to mind except how much I hate everyone around me right at that moment. I don't hate them because they hurt me, or because they made fun of me or cheated off my midterm junior year. I hate them because they remind me of everything I didn't do over the past four years. Their smiles, and excitement, and bitter-sweet tears, every single emotion they feel only reminds of how badly I want to do it all over again. And as I'm sitting their wathcing these happy schmucks, all the kids who finally feel liberated from this hell they have waited so long to escape from; I feel like I'm drowning. I want to go back to the begining, there are still some things I never had a chance to do or say; and here I am glued to this seat, knowing that it will never happen. This is it; the "best times of my life" are over and I can't even remember them. I hate this day, the culmination of all my hard work; because I feel like I didn't work at all. I blame this all on time, it went to fast and now I can't get it back. On Monday a man that I don't know, a man that I will never see again will paste a plastic smile to his face, he'll whistle me words of congratualtions and hand me a shiny black diploma case that will be just about as empty as I am. On Monday they'll present to you the Class of 2005, and instead of cheering and hugging and smiling; I'll be crying because I will have just finally realized that this means the end. I don't love you anymore, goodbye.