On the other side of the window, it is below freezing, the sky is gray, and the sun has been overtaken. She sits on her bed in her favorite hoodie, with freshly done makeup and her hair tied up in a light pink scrunchy. All the lights are turned on. Pictures, movie tickets, notes, wristbands, and more from the last four years of high school are scattered in front of her. So many physical pieces of memories have been collected that her pillows had to be tossed aside onto the floor to make room.

Before she even took out her collection, she knew that there would not be very many things from ninth grade. Leftover baggage from a rough eighth-grade year, a poor relationship, and escalated anxiety often left her in tears. Bad days were every day back then, but she knows this is not true now. A team photo reminds her of how exciting the season was. Laughter forces its way through her pressed lips as she remembers all the inside jokes she had with teammates and her old best friend. She recognizes a torn up picture as being from a particular valentines day sleepover with her girlfriends, and the ridiculousness continues her laughter. Looking back at movie marathons, girls’ weekends, and adventures, she realizes that maybe it was not so bad. It was not bad at all, actually. She learned, grew, and matured from her experiences, and laughed through them all the way.

Most of the pictures are from the tenth grade. Back then, she had a different friend group entirely. At one point, looking at these old pictures would have made her sad. Her friends all fell down the wrong path — every single one of them. A few of them even befriended her tormentors, who sent her nasty text meassges, posted mean things about her on social media, and shouted at her across the cafeteria. Even when she blocked them, they continued to post. Her old friends were blissfully unaware. But now, candid photographs of laughing with people from her past bring so much joy that it overflows the room. There are no hard feelings, only fond memories. Before the start of school, there were camping trips, night swims, and fires. Screams after scary stories told at dark rang through her mind as she flipped through the pictures, reliving the thrill. After school began, there were pictures from almost every football game with smiles that could not be more real. The movie theater was at least a monthly, if not weekly stop, judging by the saved tickets. Papa John’s Pizza with her best friend became a Friday night staple. Any minor disruption to the flow of fun was cured with boxed mac-n-cheese, a trip to Tj-Maxx, and yet another scary movie — there were plenty of mirror selfies for proof. It is okay that they are not friends anymore. People change and grow apart. She tucks her fly-aways behind her ears and wishes her old friends just as much happiness in the years to come. The optimism she found that year continues to flow.

In eleventh grade, she spent most of her time with her mom and at her grandmother’s with her cousins, as it had begun to set in that once high school was over and she went away to college, she could not see them every week — she would no longer have the opportunity to spend weekends with them. She had printed pictures with her mom for the very first time, and saved plane tickets from family vacations. Junior year is when everyone scrambles to improve their resumes and transcripts as well as develop personal academic interests and hobbies. So, on the rare occasions that their schedules matched up, she hung out with both old friends and new acquaintances, making the most of her final years of high school. From this year, she held the first sentimental objects from family events and group photos. She spent more time writing, painting her nails, and doing things alone this year than the others as well, but she was content. She was happy on her own just as much as with family and with groups. She was content.

By the start of senior year, however, she was happiest. She was not only happy looking back at the past, but going through every day. Every day and night of the preceding summer was spent with either her family, new friends, or sweet boyfriend. The majority of the mess on her bed was drive in and movie tickets, wristbands, paintings, and cards from these events. There was no time to waste taking pictures. It became apparent through the sending of college applications how little time was left, and she began to cherish the people who were in life every moment of it. Sitting distracted on her bed, leaving the Christmas decorations for another time, she realized how much she had changed and grown. Her fragile, ninth grade self was gone. Looking back, regardless of the rough patches, her time in high school was wonderful. Having grown and matured and appreciated her experiences, she is ready to move on to the next stage in life.