
To me, summer isn’t really the weather getting warmer or the days getting longer.
To me, summer isn’t beaches and mocktails, or brunch.
Well, it isn’t just that.
Summer is the lack of obligation for me. And I simply don’t have that this year. With finals leaking into March and the SAT, and another set of tests up until April, which—you’ll never guess!—is when school restarted, I am anything but unobligated.
And here we are: the penultimate summer before I leave for college. The very last year of high school. And then it’s all over. I’ll probably never see some of the characters in my life after this, for better or worse.
But is it wrong that I want it to end? Is it so terrible to want to move forward for once and yank myself out of this endless loop of tests and revision and the same rectangular hyperbola with eccentricity √2?
Well, they say we craft our own destiny, in one way or another. But some small part of me still holds on to the belief that it’s all already laid out for us. It’s an odd sort of juxtaposition: the fact that we have control over the rest of our lives, but at the same time, we end up exactly where we were meant to be.
I’m taking the reins again, in a way. Drawing fate into my hands. And, for this last year, I’m giving it everything I’ve got.
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