I was a terrible graduate - refusing to participate in the ridiculous amount of activities that they packed into those last days, not submitting a photo to our Senior yearbook, and I'm relatively sure I screamed out very unkind words to a girl who'd done me wrong (we were in the South, this description feels appropriate).
This photo, though it does remind me of the minutes that followed (cue memory of previously mentioned unkind words), brings back the best parts of graduation. The best parts, the only parts that counted to me then, and actually still now, were the friends, the anticipation, the possibility. I didn't cry a lot or lament what I'd leave behind. It wasn't about what I had done or who I had been, it was about who I could be.
Plus, I had a really great dress.