I recently started reading this book called If Only I had Told Her, a seemingly atypical teen romance according to the back cover synopsis of the book, something quick I picked up on my weekly Target run. It’s about three main characters: Finn, Jack (Finn’s best friend), and Autumn (Finn’s childhood love). While the book begins with a casual teen drama, I get to my third day of reading, where I turn to page 160. I closed that page almost as quickly as I flipped to it.

I am a very logical person. I live life logically. I tend to analyze every aspect of my day and theorize about what strategy is the most effective to accomplish. I am a walking success rate calculator, to an extent. That being said, I am also one of the most anxious people you could ever meet. I consistently attempt to predict tomorrow, am constantly worried about anything that may go wrong, and am almost always thinking about what comes next.

I have realized, about 18 years too late, that my cautious nature and overwhelming desire for perfection is more of a curse than an attribute. Sure, I have always held myself accountable in school. Yes, I often go above and beyond to please others. Absolutely, I am focused on proving what more I can do for myself. However, this sort of thinking process that I possess has made me throw away what is arguably the most important part of living. What is the most important time in everyone’s life? Now.

I’m a senior, graduating of course, and I have been present for 12 years of my life here at Norwin, yet I’m still trying to figure out what it truly means to be present. Senior year has, of all years, been the most stressful year of my life, by far. Everyone tells you to just “enjoy it” and to “live in the moment.”

But how am I supposed to enjoy now when my entire future is in my hands?

I’m sure that the feelings this question can evoke are disturbingly familiar to many soon-to-be graduates. However, this question can be asked at any age because at any age, everyone’s future is in their hands. I do not have a full-proof answer to this question. I am not a therapist. I am not a psychologist. I am not a life specialist.

But I am someone with a regret.

Right now, look up and look around you. What do you notice? Are you doing homework? Maybe working at your desk job? Snacking on your favorite food? Enduring in your guilty pleasure rom-com perhaps? Laughing with your best friend? Sipping on your Starbucks? Watching your family member or students graduate? Are you the one graduating?

Take a moment to take everything in, and then ask yourself when was the last time you actually gave your full attention to the moment you were in. When was the last time you truly FELT life? When was the last time you fully noticed and appreciated what you are experiencing right now? If you cannot answer that question, I fear that you and I have something in common.

We will not see what we have until it is actually gone.

For the last 18 years, especially this last senior rodeo, life has flashed by me like the end credits of a movie. And I regret being so out of touch with the present and so neglectful of what I am blessed to live with. Luckily for me, my life as a high school graduate has only begun and I am allowed the time to adjust my outlook on life at an earlier stage. Luckily for you, changing your perspective on how you choose to live is a power that you have at any point in your existence.

By page 150 of “If only I had told her,” our main character Finn has finally gotten all he has wanted in his life: love from his best friend, Autumn. Within 10 pages, Finn is written to experience the happiest few days of his entire life with Autumn. In return, Autumn has never felt happier in the arms of Finn. By page 160? Finn is dead.

Although this may seem like an obnoxious change of direction written by a twisted author, there hides an important message behind this bleak ending. We must live every day like our life ends tomorrow. We must not let fear of the future subside our desire to live in the moment.

What I didn’t tell you about the relationship between Finn and Autumn is that the two had been in love with each other for years. Yet, too afraid to mess up their friendship, neither of them had confessed their love until a long time…until it was too late.

So learn to notice what you have. Learn to love what you want. Learn to appreciate what you can get. Don’t forget to hug your loved ones extra tight, laugh at that dumb joke with your friends extra hard, don’t be afraid to take risks, and never let fear stop you from fulfilling your hunger.

Do not overlook the gift of life and everything it offers, or else you will never truly know life until it is gone.