I’m going to miss y’all.

There are some things I will not miss about Central. I will not miss the mold or the mice. I will not miss the bathrooms or the stairs, and you know full well why. Never in a million years will I miss the homework.

But I will miss you. I will miss people I had a class with once in ninth grade and never saw again, and I’ll miss people I’ve had literally every class with, and I’ll miss people I’ve only ever seen in the hallway. I’ll miss people I hung out with and people I didn’t. I’ll miss the teachers who gave me too many essays and the subs who did their best. I’ll miss everyone who spends their mornings and days and evenings cleaning up after us lazy, messy teenagers. I’ll miss seeing your smiles and your scowls.

I’ll miss the freshmen who run frantically through the hallway, and I’ll miss all of the seniors who grunt at them and shamble onwards in the vague direction of graduation, and the sophomores who will soon be juniors and the juniors who will soon become Capstone zombies (good luck with senior year). Whoever ye be, I will miss you.

Though I say goodbye, do not think that I never wish to hear from any of you again: indeed, my intention is quite the opposite. Be aware that I intend to keep in touch with all of you as much as I can. Why shouldn’t I? You’ve all made these four years worth it! Please know that should any of you manage to perish before I have the chance to reconnect with you, I shall be sorely put out.

But now is the time for us to go our separate ways, at least for now, and I can think of no more fitting farewell than the last part of an old shanty from British sailors in the Napoleonic Wars, called “Don’t Forget Your Old Shipmate:”

“But the best of friends must part, fair or foul the weather.

Hand your flipper for a shake, now we drink together!”