make a plan to love me.

in the tradition of this and this, goodbye junior year.
you grew me up more than i could have ever imagined. at your beginning, two years still seemed like a lot of time to be a kid, still. to figure things out. and now, a whole year has raced by me and my entire future looks different. every other year, i’ve felt an end, a rightful drawing to a close—this year, there’s nothing. there’s no sense of finality, completion, or accomplishment. maybe it’s because for the first time ever, i haven’t cared much about my gpa. maybe it’s because spring came too late this year. maybe it’s because i fell in love. maybe it’s because a summer in alaska seems surreal. maybe i see a different future now.

what can i say?
i’m not the same girl i was when i turned nineteen in august. i’ve changed dramatically/watched my horizons expand/cried and cried and cried/pushed myself/loved. some things are a blur.

i can’t even make a list or go back like i have in years previous. it doesn’t feel right. it doesn’t feel right, any of it.