My whole existence
is boringly average.
I'm already at my
last year of high school and, like everyone else in my class, all I could ever
bother about are the endless exams and preparations for college.
It seemed that my
life was officially counting off the days when I’d just drop dead with the
pressure everyone was putting on me.
I was ever the
invisible throughout high school then suddenly, just because I was undecided, I
mattered. Contrary to this attention, I’d rather, they leave me alone. Alone
with cursing at the world, and venting out my frustrations over College
Orientations and interests that never manifested in my childhood.
Just what am I supposed
to do after graduation?
I never had a
decent hobby. Never really wanted anything out of the things I do. I never had
any talents, unless you count studying diligently (and excessively), or
retorting sarcastic remarks, talents. I was just… ordinary.
People seemed to
know what they want, the minute the opportunity of a career orientation
presented itself.
All the talks
about moving regions, dormitory, prospective schools and scholarships seemed to
ricochet from every ends of the school. Suddenly, the future mattered and in a
little while, we’re legally adults. (Some far off morons were already planning
an Alumni Homecoming.)
I’m screwed. And
sarcasm wouldn’t save me, even if I traded my life with a cat.
I was really
hopeless.
This story starts
at one day. I was walking to school like any other day, minding my own
business, while thinking about those things: the stupid mania with the future,
how my future would probably look like, and some options; when I almost died.
That's right, I
almost died when some moron was walking like a drunk asshole in the road.
I shouldn’t really
associate myself with those kinds of people. Who would get drunk, let alone
drink in broad daylight? Apparently common sense was something rare, or so the
moron was probably left off the hoop.
Oh, and probably
the driver who almost killed me, was too.
Lesson learned
from the experience: Never let your humanistic values overshadow your sarcastic
philosophies. Otherwise you’ll do something stupid (which you’ll call heroic)
like pushing the drunk moron out of the way and, since the driver was a drunk
bastard as well, getting your arms end in a cast just because the object of
destruction swerved to your direction.
And let me tell
you this: Getting all casted up wasn’t worth it for all the humiliation from
deviating from an invisible life, and the embarrassment that your blood is
scattered on the asphalt while people gawk at you instead of calling an
ambulance. Did I mention that there’s also the pain from the collision?
I decided then and
there that if I lived through all this, I’ll stop with the sarcasm.
Thank you God. But
please understand. Sarcasm is my nature.
It was already a
week since that fateful accident and I’ve long since discarded the horrible
sling that they forced on me. The cast is still there, though, it was a major
relief to have my arms slightly detached from my torso.
I was passing
through that crime scene when I heard someone call.
"Uh,
Miss!"
It’s probably not
me, it’s probably someone else that the voice had been calling. I turned
around, surveying the area. I was the only one walking along the street. I
tried to find the owner of the voice, (I might have imagined it or it might be
a ghost or something) and found a sickeningly familiar face almost running
towards me. It was the drunk asshole bastard.
I didn’t know what
to do. I didn’t know if I’ll ignore him and move on or wait for him. Then there
was the issue that I almost died because of his irresponsibility. I should hear
him out, I thought. With a sigh as deep as the whole freaking world, I stood my
ground watching him pace like a hurried turtle, feeling remorse wash over me as
I waited for him to catch up.
He, I observed as
he was struggling uphill to catch up, looked about in his mid-twenties. From a
distance, I could assess his pale complexion, decent haircut, and glasses that
could classify him as smart. He had a casual built, lean if not thin (which was
really hard to tell with how he was dressed). Professional looking, wearing a
suit. If not for my earlier prejudice against him I would have found him
good-looking, handsome even.
But right now, I'm
pissed.
He was catching
his breath, taking time as if I don’t have anything to do. I mean, I do realize
that he knows I’m a student judging by the uniform I grudgingly project, but
that doesn’t mean his time is worth more than mine. For all he knows, I have a
life that I should not be wasting on waiting for someone to catch up. I didn’t
even have anything to do with him.
I'm freaking
pissed.
"I
want to apologize to what happened earlier and, of course, to offer you my
thanks."
That’s it?
"No
problem." My response was curt, concise, and straight to the point that he
was taken back. I turned to leave before civility leaves my entirety and be
forced to give this guy a piece of my mind.
"Huh?"
"I
said, it's no problem. Any sane person would've done the same thing. You don't
have to offer any thanks. I appreciate the thought anyway."
For some reason
(well, for a hell lot of reasons, I didn’t need to elaborate because of the
obviousness of things), I was really really pissed. Why can’t people just learn
to accept things and let go? One more push and he's gonna get it –
"A-are
you sure, that's i--?"
That’s it!
"Look.
I'm trying to be nice here so bear with me. No. Listen. First, next time, go to
work with your hangover washed out I don't freaking care about your stupid
problems. And for Christ’s sake, its freaking daylight! Second, when somebody
says it's 'all right and I appreciate the thought', it might be a little better
to leave that person be, since that person might be feeling a little murderous
about something - like being bothered for instance. No, maybe I'm pissed
because you are acting like a flirt and flirts make me want to hurl, then die
on some freaking corner. I'm not saying that all people are like that but
please –!”
The words came
tumbling before I had the chance to rein it. I could probably do a thousand
words within that minute, considering I didn’t even pause to breathe. Have you
ever had that feeling like you’re so full of everything and anger just lets you
spill out your guts? Like, what you’re saying doesn’t make sense anymore and
you just want to feel good about letting that rage out.
Then suddenly, he
was laughing.
“What
are you laughing at?"
He shuts up, as if
he thought I might get offended with his interruption over my unfiltered
litany. Though, his pale face had been smudged with a pink blush that it
obvious, he’s suppressing his laughter.
Patience had never
been one of my virtues, but at that moment, it seemed that it suddenly is.
It took a while
before he could actually talk straight.
"Sorry.
Please allow me to do this. I'll really treat you as a token of my
appreciation. Come on."
He had a certain
charm in him, in a non-attractive sort of way. But the way his eyes seemed to
lit with a reflected sincerity over his words and that his laughter was at the
situation, rather than at me. I realized I wasn't that pissed anymore since I
probably released all that anger through that monologue, and so, agreed to his
proposal.
He wasn't such an
ass as I thought he would be.
He treated me to
some fast-food downtown, which was convenient for me since I lived a couple of
blocks from here. For someone like me, he was very considerate. I dismissed
some thoughts and that warning parents often give to their children about
getting somewhere with strangers, and listened as he unburdened the reasons for
his intoxicated state.
Apparently, he got
tangled into an unexpected sessions coming with paydays – the perks of the life
of an adult and world of employment. Honestly, adults should be more responsible
with their life.
Look at me, I'm
talking about that.
"What
do you do anyway?"
"I
work for my father."
"As
what?"
"Let's
just say, I do paperwork all the time."
"Boring."
"You,
what do you plan to do after graduation? College?"
"My
parents want to."
I didn’t want the
conversation to head to that direction. I may seem like I didn’t know what I’d
do, but in reality, I did. I'm just embarrassed to admit it out loud.
"But
what do you want?"
Is he seriously
asking that?
"It's
a secret."
The next time I
saw him again, my arm was already healed. I was on my way home with a scowl,
pouting mentally and silently cursing my homeroom adviser.
She didn't have to
rub it in.
I don't mean to
brag or anything, but my grades were really far from average. It wasn't an
understatement to say that because I'm currently ranked third from the whole
year. It's just that I don't really care about my grades THAT much. I just
study most of the time because I've got nothing to do. In fact, I've done
nothing but study on my free times because I was so freaking bored.
So now, here I was
walking home with an armload of college application forms and brochures, like
hell do I need these things. I had enough on my mind already. I ticked them off
in my head, and contradicting them as I go along.
Maybe
I'll let my parents choose. And would
they understand? Expectations sucks.
Maybe
I'll just be a parasite. Like, I’ve been
studying just to be THAT.
Maybe
I'll go on and apply for some lame job that doesn't need a college diploma. My teacher will have a heart attack.
Or
maybe I'll take suicide. So much for
avoiding drama and making a big fuss over nothing.
"Miss?"
It was the drunk
asshole. Maybe I should start calling him by some other name, you know, more
decent than what I was secretly calling him. As always, I waited for him to
catch up on that same uphill path where the embarrassing confrontation
happened.
I went with him to
the same store we went from last time.
Since I was the
one looking so sulky, he managed to coax what was bothering me. He listened to
my complaints, without judgment I hoped.
"You
are one bored little fellow."
Little?
"Thank
you. But I think I’ve had it figured out." I couldn’t help the sarcasm. It
was a part of me, the same thing with the drunk asshole association that I had
with him.
"Have
you ever thought about what you really wanted?"
Again, with the
sincere looking eyes. It was mesmerizing. So much so, that I almost admitted
what I thought. Almost. Ugh, But I checked myself. It’s going to be embarrassing
to admit it is out loud.
"How
about you, is what you're doing the thing you really want?"
I decided that I
had to divert the whole attention from me, otherwise it won’t be pretty. I
tried to answer the question with a question (which normally works if I ask the
right question). I crossed my fingers behind my back, and leaned towards him
mustering my most innocent look as I held his eyes captive.
His beautiful
hazel eyes.
I mentally shook
my head and waited for his rebottle. Then, there was utmost silence. I never
realized it could work. Dramatically.
It was the gravest
moment in my life, waiting for his answer.
"Maybe
I took a wrong turn somewhere because what I am having was something I didn't
think I could ever want."
"That's
stupid." Again, I just couldn’t stop myself.
He looked at me,
surprised at my remark.
"I
mean, if you took a wrong turn, what's there to be hesitant about? You're still
young aren't you? How is it that it's too late? Work hard to make it happen, things
won't proceed with you just thinking where in the world did you make that wrong
turn. That's just plain moronic."
I took a fry from
my food tray,
“Adults
are so complicated.”
Did I just say that?
His face told me I
just did. I took my time playing bottoms-up on my coke as I weighed what I just
said. My mouth just couldn’t wait for my brain to organize my thoughts.
"You
never fails to surprise me." His voice is at awe, like he was seeing me
for the first time. By that meaning, it was like he realized I was really an
alien from outer space.
"They
tell me I have potential."
He grinned at
that.
"Are
you sure you don't really want to tell me what you want?"
"Are
you for real?"
He became a
frequent stranger who came into my life. He became a habit, sort of like, after
school activity which exercises my sarcastic being and a fuel to egocentrism.
We talk about
life, our views and thoughts about certain things.
Most of the time,
he just listens. He seems mesmerized with the words coming out of my mouth like
it was some sort of wisdom where I'm just stating obvious fact. (And I couldn’t
very well admit that I find him mesmerizing as well. At least, not to his face.
And not while I am alive. God, I’m crazy.)
As the time
progressed, we, the nameless strangers, I mean, I, probably did the most sinful
thing that could break this current relationship.
I fell in love.
Hard.
And maybe I
already had from the moment I saw those beautiful hazel eyes. But the profound
realization that an unknown emotion just swelled in my heart. God knows how
much I battled with the idea until one day, I just accepted things. Being the
impatient being that I was, I told him.
He was apparently
surprised.
"Why?"
"What
a stupid question."
I tried being
myself as always. My sarcastic and uncaring-to-what-other-people-thinks self.
If I showed this man how vulnerable I was feeling at that moment, I knew I
wouldn’t get what I really wanted. His true feelings.
Sucks to be
mature.
I took in his
quiet posture, noting an existence of a drain that seeps emotions from his
usual demeanor. There was silence like I never experienced. He was uneasy. He
was deep in thought and he was still sinking. Like, he didn’t know how to break
things in my face without actually hurting me. I felt a pang of deep regret to
what I just did.
It's over.
The pain came like
quicksand. It sucked me down, plummeting slowly. Drowning me. The air became
stuffy and I found it hard to breathe. The silence is killing me. It was plain
torture, and I am breaking. I didn’t know how much time passes. I was just
looking at his face contorting into a multitude of emotions, it was like a
candle flickering. I couldn’t understand it.
It didn’t matter
anymore. I had to get out.
"I'm
sorry. I seemed to have caused you some disturbance."
I stood up knowing
that right then and there, I would leave him agony and the blame over what I
have felt. I cannot reassure him that he was not at fault. At least, not to his
face. Because I knew, that no matter what I say, his pride would not let it go.
Smiling was the least that I could do.
"Goodbye,
it's been nice seeing you. Thank you."
I turned and
didn’t look back, at least, I didn't want him to see I had a heart. That I was
crying my eyes out for some drunk asshole who I never even asked the name.
I finally
confessed to my parents about my vague plans after graduation. They didn’t seem
surprised. I was the one who wasn’t expecting their reaction (or lack thereof).
"We
knew."
Really?
All those times I
wasted to imagining worst case scenarios seemed to haunt me.
"You
were never happy when receiving awards for your good standing in class."
I felt an odd
sense of relief. They really are my parents. And all this time, I was beginning
to think I was adopted and they would cast me out for my indecisiveness.
We talked. Longer
than how we usually do. It was reinvigorating, like I’ve casted my burdens out
and just ran out, free. And my hair soaring with the winds. This might be an
exaggeration but I felt that I was flying and that gravity just released me and
left me weightless.
My parents assured
me that they would always be there. My voice cracked with emotions, and my
usual façade broke through. I told them, that they’ll be responsible if I ended
up ruining my life.
Just what the hell
is wrong with me?
I talked to my
homeroom teacher about what I’ve discussed and decided with my parents. She
wasn’t that convinced and I told her to talk for confirmation. I never saw a
teacher cry until she rebuked that I was wasting my life.
But life goes on.
With a one less thing
to worry about, I devoted the remaining days as a high school student brooding
over a break up that was not possible. The pain was so real; it was like I
imagined it.
I still cry,
shedding a tear or two, and spend afternoons drunk with excessive sleep and
caffeine. I spent my days, hoping I'd meet the asshole, bump into him on the
road or something which was stupid considering, I also didn’t want to meet him.
I still eat at the
fast-food restaurant. At least, with the probability that he would not be there.
Even if I had to cut classes.
Graduation came.
Goodbyes.
Tears.
Freedom.
My ever
heartbroken homeroom adviser crying her eyes out at me, a repeat of that day
when I first saw a teacher cry, while looking congratulating me on my
graduation. That was another first: I never saw a walking contradiction until I
did that to her. Can’t say, I’ve blamed her though, I was pretty indecisive and
most of my sure decisions were unexpected to the point that she could curse me.
My parents allowed
me to roam around after the ceremony.
Since I’ve been
forever alone until graduation, I didn’t bother breaking the habit even if my
class had organized a party. Party’s not my thing, especially if I’d have to
plaster cosmetics on my face just so they could say I belong.
Hell no.
I let myself
grieve the last few days past. The melancholy, the heartache, and the wrenching
realization that what happened with soon be a thing of the past. Ugh, I don’t
want to let go just yet. I allowed my feet to propel me to the direction,
parallel to my train of thoughts. And those stupid feet just brought me to that
fast-food restaurant where I experienced the most climactic scene in my life.
Him and his stupid
Clark Kent façade.
“So,
the glasses were part of your disguise?”
“No
I just switched to contact lenses.”
I never realized
but he was a teacher from my school. He had the faculty uniform on, the one
that they only wear during occasions – at least whenever the school board is
present. Not that the teachers know that the students do. It was ironic, the
drama and all those. Suddenly, everything just made sense.
He couldn’t quit
because he was the president’s son. He couldn’t come clean with me because I
was a student at the school though he teaches special classes.
"I
already quit my job. Er, just now in fact."
"What
are you going to do now?"
"I'll
study medicine. Be a doctor. You? What is it that you really want?"
He was standing
there, his beautiful hazel eyes twinkling. There was something in them that
captivates me. Placing me into a spell I knew had always existed. I wanted to
get mad, I wanted to scream at him for all the useless tears I’ve shed. But
mostly, I want this man whose eyes says exactly how I feel. I went over. Kissed
him.
How unfair was it
that people never seemed to be surprise at the things I do?
"Then?
What is it?"
"Marry
me."
It’s not that I
didn’t mean what I said. But I can’t do that just yet – I just graduated from
high school and was still technically a minor. Though, I secretly triumphed at
his reaction. He was obviously surprised.
"You're
really sneaky, you know that?"
And in a much
lower voice he whispered before giving me another kiss,
"I
love you too."
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Revision from 10-16-11 post, "After Graduation"
http://thoughtsofanundefined.blogspot.com/2011/10/after-graduation.html
