The Space Between: Thoughts from a Senior on the Edge
It's 2 AM, and I'm staring at my ceiling again with the sunset lamp tripod casting ethereal shadows. My phone keeps lighting up with snap notifications – seems like I'm not the only one who can't sleep. We're all in this weird space right now, this endless waiting game where every email notification makes my heart skip a beat.
They say senior year is supposed to be the best year of high school, but nobody talks about this part – the part where you feel like you're living in two timelines at once. In one timeline, I'm still here: sitting in my usual spot at lunch, going to classes, working on assignments, complaining about AP Psych essays. The normal stuff. The life I know how to do.
But in the other timeline, I'm already somewhere else. Maybe I'm walking across a campus in Illinois, or sitting in a dorm room in Michigan, or grabbing coffee between classes in Virginia. I spend hours on YouTube watching "day in the life" videos of colleges I applied to, trying to picture myself there. Sometimes it feels real. Sometimes it feels impossible.
The waiting is the hardest part. Everyone keeps asking, "Where are you going to college?" and I want to scream "I DON'T KNOW!" How am I supposed to know? The decisions aren't out yet, and even when they are, how do I choose? How do I know what's right? It's like everyone expects me to have this massive life decision figured out, when last week I couldn't even decide what to wear to my friend’s senior night the other day!
And then there's the guilt. I feel guilty for wishing time would move faster because I know I'm supposed to be "enjoying every moment" of senior year. I feel guilty when I get excited about college because it means leaving my family, and my friends. I feel guilty for being stressed about college decisions when my parents keep reminding me how lucky I am to have options.
The other night, I found my old middle school yearbook, and it hit me – I'm not that person anymore. But I'm also not yet the person I'll be in college. I'm just... here. In between. My Instagram explore page is all dorm room tours and college decision reaction videos. My desk is a weird mix of college postcards and study guides for finals. Even my closet is confused – should I buy new winter clothes now or wait to see where I end up?
The scary part isn't even just the college decisions anymore. It's everything that comes after. Will I like my roommate? Will I make friends easily? Will I be able to handle the classes? Will I pick the right major? Sometimes I lie awake thinking about how in a few months, I'll be sleeping in a completely different room, in a completely different city, surrounded by completely different people.
Maybe it's okay to be scared and excited at the same time. Maybe it's okay to want to hold onto everything here while still wanting to reach for everything ahead.
My mom says this feeling is part of growing up – this mix of endings and beginnings, of being ready and not ready at the same time. Maybe she's right. Maybe that's what senior year is really about: learning to live in that in-between space, learning to be okay with not knowing everything, learning to trust that wherever we end up is where we're supposed to be.
For now, though, I'll keep jumping every time my phone buzzes, keep dreaming about dorm room layouts, keep trying to memorize the little things about home that I know I'll miss. And maybe, just maybe, I'll try to be a little kinder to myself about feeling all of these things at once.
Because the truth is, we're all in this space between – this weird, scary, exciting, overwhelming space between who we were and who we're going to be. And maybe that's exactly where we're supposed to be right now.
P.S. If you're reading this at 2 AM because you also can't sleep – you're not alone. We're all in this together, even when we're apart.