So, I have now (more or less) finished the school year. No more year 12. Only one more year of school, as opposed to gap years and university and the real world. And it feels really, really weird. Since, september, any education I do has technically been of my own choice, or not compulsory, but that just seems so much more prominent now. Everything changes, I guess, but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I like more of the people who are moving on, [at least proportionally], but it seems more like the end of a chapter than leaving secondary school did.
You can tell you’re not really a child anymore when the subject of small talk is university open days, and how far away from your parents you’re willing to move to (a competition which I won, because Vancouver is far more distant than other faraway places like Edinburgh and Belfast). This past year (well, maybe year and a half) has been far more instrumental in making me the person I am than any other, and I think I’ll miss it.
I realise that this probably makes far more sense inside my own head than it does on a computer screen. Think of it as a “thoughts from places” video, from the churchyard. And just a warning, I will probably write something equally soppy this time next year.
P.S: Claire, you are not obliged to write anything vaguely sentimental. I didn’t even think I’d write something this mushy, it just sort of happened.