This world will survive without us. (And that's the hardest part)

Tomorrow is my last day of high school ever. I am going to go to my classes, go through the motions, have a few parties, and end the day with tears of bittersweet joy as I say goodbye to all of these wonderful and at times infuriating people. These have been the best and worst years of my life thus far. And now it's time to say goodbye.
Next Monday, the juniors, sophomores, and freshmen will come to school. The parking lot will be harder to fill, but next year there will be more kids coming of age to get their licenses, and it will be difficult to navigate again. Mrs Dolbee's second hour Advanced Literature class will be empty of students, with nothing left of us but our names painted on her wall. But next year, the desks will be full again, and someone will paint over us.
This is the cycle of life, I guess. Every rite of passage marks a sort of death, an end to a time of our lives we can't get back again. But just because my teenage self is dying, this angst-ridden punk rocker, that doesn't mean that I won't be fully reborn. I will be back to roam these halls, at reunions and nostalgic whims, a different person than when I navigated them previously. I have grown, and will continue to do so.

 And so this is my final gesture to this school. I am bringing these heart-shaped, poptart cookies in for my second hour (and other friends). One final way to show my love for the end of these crucial years. Let's hope the next four are even better.