June is finally here, thank gosh, and with it brings the promise of exams (I never thought I'd be so happy to put myself through grueling testing), graduation (unbelievable), and summer vacation. And as I prepare to leave Innisdale and dive headfirst into the unknown, I can't help looking back on my last four years with a smile. I've made memories, contacts, and lifelong friends here, none of which I'll soon forget.
Everyone's set on where they're going next year, whether it's staying here for a victory lap, travelling the world, or going off to university or college. I'm excited - in fact, I'm probably the most enthusiastic of all my friends - but I know that the end of high school will be bittersweet. While I don't expect to cry on the last day of school, or at graduation, or even the very last time I hang out with the friends I've spent four or more years with (I swear, I'm made of stone), I know that I'll be sad to leave so much behind. I'll be saying goodbye to my family, first and foremost, my closest friends, a school that I've come to love, and a city that I'm quite enamored with. I certainly won't miss waking up at quarter after six in the morning to haphazardly shove myself into clothes and force myself out the door and onto the bus, but I'll miss the familiarity of home.
I know that saying goodbye to this paper will be particularly saddening, since I've been fortunate enough to be part of it since its inaugural issue. What first started as a friend's unlikely idea has blossomed into something quite amazing, which I'm proud to say I've been a part of. We've all worked incredibly hard on IU, especially Gary and Jacob, and the result was well worth the toils. And I have a good feeling that next year's group will keep the paper going strong.
Congratulations graduates, for having made it this far. And congratulations to the IU contributors and editors, for making this paper what it is now. Thank you all for making my years at Innisdale special and memorable.
