With the window to my next four years open and the endless possibility flows in like the rays of sun through a dark room, I ask myself, “what do I make of the previous three?”

Like many of my colleagues in their final year of high school, I too have had the fortune of anxiously tearing open a letter to read the words dedicated students wait to see since they began the process oh so many months before, “congratulations, you have been accepted.” At this moment, one may experience a leaping sensation in their heart as the rate increases.

Some may not be able to breathe or speak with excitement. The eyes may start to smart as tears of joy flow freely like persistent waterfalls and some may reveal a small grin while feeling their own sense of great emotion. Maybe you’ll jump maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll scream, maybe you’ll break into random song. Maybe you’ll hug the first person you see. For those of us in boarding school, the cell phone on your dresser drawer rings continuously for hours as family members and friends congratulate your impressive accomplishment. You try to take the moment in while at the same time you try to express yourself, and as you celebrate, you know that for the moment, the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders.

Today I’m another one of those lucky people. I’m a person who an institution of great prestige said “yes” to. 14,000 other hopeful applicants completed the process with me and the fact that I made it makes it that much sweeter. Did I mention that it’s my #1?

I came back from the Honors Ski Trip in Yosemite National Park to find an email telling me of my good fortune. The email was from the University of San Francisco. I can yammer on and on and on about each and every detail of the process and the story behind it like I usually do but however, this is not my prerogative.

The significance of this to me is that the chapter of my life lingers as I am about to turn the page. It is the feeling that you get when you’re waiting in a train station you hear your train coming down the tracks, and you think to yourself, “could it be? finally, in this moment, MY train has arrived.” Now it seems that all I have to do is step on. It is a new beginning taking me to destinations not yet treaded and not yet known and not just to San Francisco.

Times like now only add the incentive for me to count down the days until we as a senior class commence under the hot sun of an early June day to accept our diplomas. Yet I can’t help but think back on the past three years and question them, reminisce on them, ponder them, and to contemplate my exact emotions. I can’t say that I approve of all that’s gone down since I came to OVS as a 15-year-old, but for now, I try to stay away from senioritis, keep the grades up, and think about all the future holds while trying to live in the present. Still, it’s hard to keep your head in the moment when your mind’s a million miles away, or in this case, just up the state.