Things we will never get back

This is dedicated to my high school graduating class. Also, note to Mehvash, keep tissues with you.

  • We will never get back borderline insulting banter and The Weakest Link outrages with Ms Glenda in Sociology
  • We will never get back the times we cooed and gushed over Ms Anna and her cuteness at something she said or admitted she couldn’t relate to in Crime & Deviance
  • We will never get back all our literature energizer-related injuries at the hands of sponge balls or dodging elbows in our race to the bell
  • We will never get back coconut juice and South Indian delicacies as we discussed the finer points of God of Small Things
  • We will never get back tense games of Jenga, or violent UNO rounds, or the rampant cheating that inevitably goes on during our Sixth Form games
  • We will never get back all the coffee we drank in our corner of the Sixth Form, or the breakfasts volunteered by someone or the other, or the gummy bears that were so violently ripped apart
  • We will never get back all the photobooth pictures taken. Well. Actually, we will. There’s a lot more where those came from
  • We will never get back our original reactions to Darren’s infamous “Bloody ****” story
  • We will never get back the various parties and get-togethers and birthday celebrations and the Christmas party
  • We will never get back the overwhelming and mixed feeling of seeing everyone in their graduation gowns for the first time
  • We will never get back how it felt to finally walk out of the back room to Carry On for the last time
  • We will never get back all the days that stupid One Direction song was stuck in our heads and the amount of times we had to perfect our dance to it and-
  • We will never get back how worth it all it was when we saw the final product.

But what we do still have are memories. Pictures. Videos. Inside jokes that will last us years. Facebooks and phone numbers and twitter archives. We’ll forget a lot, but we’ll have each other to fill in the gaps. We are Year 13 of 2013, the coolest “class of” title in history. And we’re small and tight knit but even if we do forget each other a few years down the line, I don’t think any of us is going to forget the good memories and hilarity of our last year of high school. I love you all to death and there’s so much more I would love to talk about but I might end up crying.

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Here’s to us, Year 13.

 

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