Sometimes I look back and think, “3 years, wow that’s a lot”. Other times I just shake my head and say, “no not really”. And the difference I’ve noticed is when I actually think about the whole of the 3 years and the moments and memories they encase, of the irritations and smiles and laughs I went through while sitting on a blue chair surrounded by immature boys, quiet girls and a short, blonde friend – that’s when I think, “Yeah, damn.” Teachers passing in front my eyes, one after the other, each with their own knowledge to share, some with none to do so. All with a personality that would either call the disciplined version of my class to show and some with whom my classmates felt with liberty to speak freely even when they had nothing really, to say.
Green grasses, neatly trimmed and home to jumpy spiders that oddly enough did not bother anyone, sometimes adorned with brown leaves, gifted by the many many trees standing dutifully all around, almost proudly with how firm and bright they stood. They would always the allow the sun to play and color the school grounds in rays and shadows, and always with the singsong birds playing the OST to my high school movie. Familiar faces, sometimes deserving a nod and others a smirk or a smile, would float among the many bodies encountered every day, five days a week, four weeks a month, less than 10 months a year. And all to never be seen again in the matter of 3 years. And again, 3 years doesn’t seem like much.
A warm room with computers lined up, the fortune, the luck of the day to get internet access which would make the following hours much easier. Whether it be to design a webpage using HTML code with a Doctor Who theme, or to open up a PC and clean it to put it back together again. Although, admittedly the internet access I had during the 4th semester, no matter how fast it had been or could have been, would have been able to save me with programming. That’s when I learned I would get as far as minoring in Computer Science. The hours were varied as any other thing in life, but overall they were good. Particularly when I could read instead of actually working.
High school for most, is a terrible time which has led me to think, either I did it wrong or they did it wrong because it was actually of the most enjoyable time so far in my 18 years. And when you look at it 18 years isn’t much, but when you look at it 18 years is a lot. I went through so many changes, and entered so many fandoms, met quite a few people and made quite a few memories… it wasn’t hell like most American teenagers always claim it to be and maybe it’s because I’m in Mexico, maybe it’s because I entered el CBTa and not the other options (I only flunked one class during 2nd semester and it was the best thing I could’ve done or I would have had to go to el COBAEZ so) or maybe it’s because Middle School had been really shitty the 3 years so God was like, “Kay, now chill.”
There are so many things I will forget, so many faces, so many names, so many memories… nothing but random seconds of the past three years. But, I won’t forget the fact that High School was awesome. I would read in class and my classmates would treat my outbursts as normal, I even got to drink coffee and eat cookies while my classmates worked (it was English, like Basic English which I already know of course), my classmates respected me and so I was “class president” for 2 and a half years… it was great. And I won’t forget that, no matter how many endings come after that and how many beginnings, I won’t.
- V
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