Grade 12. A year of endings and new beginnings. A time where you say goodbye to childhood friends and head off to university, or wherever it is you’re going. Me, I planned on traveling Europe for a year. I had had everything planned out for over a year; I knew exactly what cities I was going to, how much it would cost to fly there, and how much it would cost in total by the end of the year. I would go to London first, and spend just over a month on the island. I’d tour all of the British Isles before heading to the mainland and hitting all the “hot spots” like Paris and Berlin and the Swiss Alps and Monaco. I’d start north and make my way south, finishing my tour in Italy. I would take my time to travel through the cities and countryside and enjoy every moment away from home. I was going to go to Verona last so I could meet an Italian man and fall in love so that I could live there forever. I had everything planned so carefully, but now that the time to leave is getting nearer, I find myself doubting everything. Maybe I should go to university next year. Or maybe I should save up and work for a year and go to Europe the year after.
But I don’t need to work for a year to save money. I’ve been planning this for years, so I have all the money I’ll need saved up. I’ve even convinced my best friend to come with me instead of going to university like she had planned. She couldn’t be more excited about going to Europe. She’s tried to rub some of her excitement off on me, but the more she talks about it, the more I resist going. I’ll be honest: I’m afraid. I’ve never been so terrified. I’m afraid of leaving my sheltered life, which a year ago I had been so eager to get away from. I used to hate living here, but it appeals more to me now than Europe did a year ago. I mean, my father is here, and I’m afraid of leaving him and his new family; what if he has a baby with his new wife? I won’t see him or her for at least a whole year, more if I meet that Italian. And by that time I will probably have missed all of those precious moments everyone always talks about.
I just don’t know if I’m ready to give all of this up. My father, who had for so long been a single parent, spoiled me like he had two incomes to spend off of. For my twelfth birthday, for instance, he bought me an old mare that I called Hollywood Princess. I don’t know how we afforded it: we had to pay almost four hundred dollars a month for boarding fees alone, plus feed and tack, and the original cost of Holly. For a few months I had spent every day with her, but by the time my thirteenth birthday rolled around I had lost interest in Holly, and dad sold her to the stable as a trail riding horse for much less than he had paid for her. On my sixteenth birthday dad bought me a brand new Corvette, which he was still paying an arm and a leg for every month, when I would have been perfectly happy with an old boat for a car, so long as I had a car.
What sane person would give up a life like this? I could just live at home for a year, and I’d be around everything that is safe and familiar and normal. Or I could travel to Europe and be thrown into a culture so totally opposite of ours, and not have a home for a year. Sure, I’d get to see some amazing landmarks, but I would have no money once I was finished, and then how would I go to school later? I don’t know about you, but the former sounds much more appealing to me now.