After Graduation (Revised)

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