There’s something about the end of the school year that makes me want to press the fast-forward button till it’s mid-June, when all of the graduation hoopla is over and normalcy is restored.

For us emotional types, it’s just a little too much: the heart-tugging songs; the sight of tearful graduates hugging goodbye; the inspiring speeches; the final this and final that.

And then there are the end-of-year awards, mostly for elite high school scholars and athletes, that are wonderful and well-deserved and entirely appropriate – but which nonetheless exclude a slew of great kids.

I can’t help thinking there’s a teenager or two wrapping up their high school years quietly disappointed in themselves.

This one’s for you.

You did your best. You’d study 10 hours for a B while your friend scored an A without cracking the book. Just as she didn’t get your big brown eyes, you didn’t get her big ol’ brain.

You were on the basketball team. Technically you were, but, no matter how many hours you spent shooting hoops at the rec center every Sunday, you didn’t get much court time unless the game was lopsided and there were 12 seconds left on the clock.

You highlight your hair and curl your lashes and follow every trick in Seventeen magazine and still don’t look like the model on the cover. You don’t even look like the models hired by Dove to look average.

No matter how hard you tried to be friendly, you were never one of the popular kids. And even in your own group, you sometimes felt lonely.

You’re a late-bloomer. Or a nerd or a geek or a slacker or a free-thinker whose path has always been a little off-kilter. And you’ll never be chosen to throw your graduation cap up in the air as the TV commercial raves about the “brightest and the best.”

Here’s the thing: High school, which in some ways is constraining and artificial, is just four years of your life. People keep ranting about how life is short. But life, if you’re lucky, is long.

If you didn’t sparkle during the hormonally-charged, peer-pressured years between 14 to 18, maybe you’ll come into your own in your 20s, or soar from 34 to 38, or become wildly successful at 43. Maybe you’ll go on to be the most popular guy in your senior complex. (It’s no consolation now. But just wait until you’re 70.)

While it’s hard not to envy the very gifted, it’s a futile, exhausting waste of energy. So a friend is good looking, athletic and popular (today, anyhow). What do you bring to the table? A sense of humor? The ability to see what needs to be done and the tenacity to do it? Kindness? A willingness to listen?

What new skills will you develop in the years to come that will add to your life and the lives of others? The possibilities are endless and exciting.

In a few days, you’ll graduate from that relatively short period of time called high school. It’s a big day in a life that will be full of more big days, many of which will be even more meaningful.

And so begins the next chapter of what we all hope will be a long, interesting life. You’re ready. You’re set. Go.

Jo Mathis, a staff writer for the Ann Arbor (Mich.) News, can be contacted at [email protected].