Alright, I give in. This is my second-to-last article, and it is time to start acknowledging that my time in Wilton is coming to a close. Winter fades into spring, and the classic bittersweet sentiments wash over me while my “Lasts” start to roll in. Lasts are exactly what they sound like: my last time sledding at the beloved Gilly Hill with snow filling my Timberlands and frosting my cheeks, my last morning speed-walking in from the senior lot to escape the cold and beat the bell, and my last necessary but painfully early 5 a.m. phone call alerting me that we have the day off. I take each “Last” with an ounce more appreciation than I normally would, because these somewhat mundane things that make up the ordinary for me now will soon be the very things that help me hold on to the memories of Wilton. With a tinge of sadness, I am prepared to say “see you later” to my Wilton winters.
With that being said, I am not prepared to say goodbye to my classmates. Some of my peers could not be more excited to snag their diploma, flash a peace sign, and drive as far away from our little town as possible. I get that; it has been 13 years, we have all seen quite a lot of each other, and, unsurprisingly, not everyone likes one another. But, we do know each other. Walking through the halls, I get an indescribable feeling of safety from being surrounded by people I have known for 13 years. Each senior that walks past my locker bank in the morning, every high five I give or receive on the third floor, every kid I sit across from in the jungle, people I do not know, people I used to know, my friends, my best friends. We have all experienced the craziness that is growing up in Wilton, and in a few months, a seemingly random kid from my freshman math class will effectively vanish into thin air. It leaves me feeling incomplete, like there are hundreds of students who I have spent years with but barely know, and now it seems too late. After PGP, we will all drive to the beach, watch the sunrise, and say goodbye. I know, I am getting ahead of myself here. But with APs approaching, why not be sappy? Why race to get out of here and burn bridges when I could embrace the nostalgic feelings and lead with kindness? Internship is weeks away, so before I lose my chance, I want to address and thank the class of 2018.