More Time

I left seventh grade 48 minutes ago. I felt like it was too soon. How far, already into summer I feel. My disorganized mind thought that I would have more time to like who I like, more time to get to know her. More time to give gifts to my teachers, and more time in general. More. Time. I thought I would have more time to pack up the clothes in my locker, more time to learn new things. Now here I am in summer and I am all alone. Plans that could have been, or might be, are the only things that grace the corners of my mind. I think these plans are shadows of what I wanted. More. Time. I wanted more time for my second sleepover, a read-athon, a time with my friends at the centre of town, shopping; key female bonding time. It seems like only a week ago I was entering the building as a sixth grader wondering, because of our six-day-based schedule, if we would be going to school on Shabbat. No, it doesn't feel good that I am out of school. 

I'm not Charlie Brown. I don't live near my friends or my crush. I probably won't see them for a good month now. But I digress. I just needed more time for all of it to feel wrapped up.