Let me tell you something about high school, but first keep this in mind: this might as well be a rant. I really didn’t learn anything from a book or doing a research paper. I did most of my learning outside of the classroom:

-Who’s going to stick with you.

-How to and how not to treat the people you love (really, just people in general).

-What to do if you bust a tire on a snow day.

-Where the best and fastest fast food joints are located.

-Why it’s important to always wear a helmet.

When enrolling in high school, they never tell you that it’s going to be the hardest and most emotionally draining four years of your life (so far) or that you’re still going to be bullied after your first eight years of public school–not just by your peers but by some teachers, too.

This isn’t me complaining about how I wasn’t popular or Mr. Raider; this is me complaining about how I wasn’t prepared for the stuff that comes with high school: Long nights of homework and projects, d-halls for being two minutes late or a vulgar slur slip, being chewed out in the middle of the hall by a teacher.

But there are great moments, too, like finding your high school sweetheart, meeting your best friends and starting to discover who you are and what you are.

I finally figured out who I am: I’m a cranky/whiny teenage boy who listens to music written by guys with daddy issues who have just been dumped. I love Pop Punk and coffee. I am a journalist. I’ve finally allowed myself to write crap but to never give up on that crap and to mold it into platinum.

The things I’ve learned in the past four years will last forever. And I will never regret the things I’ve done since I was a freshman, the people I have met, the places I’ve seen, the bridges I’ve burned.

This isn’t a cliche story about how “relationships and teachers suck,” or “how I came into high school a boy but came out a man, more matured and calloused.” This is a story about a kid who survived the last four years.