time passing
There's something to be said for these short days. Taking my time to wake up and listen to the violin and piano quartet as I got dressed, driving to school without having to worry about being a few minutes late, not having to pay attention to what Sister said. Being home and sipping on a diet pepsi with some cheesits and being able to sit and write. I've been craving quiet and time to think for the last two weeks, taking a few tidbits here and there, stopping to sit back and absorb what's around me. Never seeming to get enough time to write and always having to hold on to though processes for hours before I can get to a keyboard. That's what happened today and the day before, and by the time I get to the keyboard I can only seem to think of the first line.
On my bed, next to my computer desk, is a small plastic bag. And in that bag are my cap and gown. Pristine and white, with a blue and white tassle splayed in the bag. I've always hated the idea of wearing white for graduation, but nonetheless ... there it sits, taunting me with the idea of the pomp and circumstance, the achievement, the finality, and being able to show everyone that after fours years, after thinking so many nights that I would never make it and feel like the world was going to end ...
I did. We did.
Still, sitting here, resting, eating a leisurely lunch on a Thursday afternoon, feels wrong after so many afternoons of torturing myself through math class, or arguing my way through history, or ... so many afternoons, so many classes, so many good days actually in school, in class. So sitting here and thinking, reflecting, writing, is odd and semi-slovenly on my part. I can't help but feel I've earned a rest after those four mortal years of killing myself ... but letting go isn't nearly as hard as it should be. I suspect I'll miss the people more than anything, the little reminders that I'm loved, but school had always been a means to an end for me, a way to do what I really love. I said goodbye to my stages, my performances, my time in the spotlight. Tomorrow is my time to have fun with John on stage. I love singing duets.
I'm going on a tangent again.
So graduation practice begins in earnest tomorrow. And my cap and gown are sitting on the bed next to me. It's really happening, we're really doing it. I'm going to walk down the aisle, all in white, ring on my finger, roses in my arms, heels making my feet throb ... and I'm going to graduate. A minor triumph of gigantic proportions for a girl with such gragantuan expectations for herself. I'm going to do it, really, truly, do it.
We deserve this you know. This achievement, this ceremony, the praise and the glory. The pride. I have all these memories flashing across my mind in bits and pieces, that I can't quite express. The only thing that's really solid, real and there for me right now is the fact that time is passing. My class, my girls, my school, my saddle shoes, my plaid. Our pride.
We deserve this.
On my bed, next to my computer desk, is a small plastic bag. And in that bag are my cap and gown. Pristine and white, with a blue and white tassle splayed in the bag. I've always hated the idea of wearing white for graduation, but nonetheless ... there it sits, taunting me with the idea of the pomp and circumstance, the achievement, the finality, and being able to show everyone that after fours years, after thinking so many nights that I would never make it and feel like the world was going to end ...
I did. We did.
Still, sitting here, resting, eating a leisurely lunch on a Thursday afternoon, feels wrong after so many afternoons of torturing myself through math class, or arguing my way through history, or ... so many afternoons, so many classes, so many good days actually in school, in class. So sitting here and thinking, reflecting, writing, is odd and semi-slovenly on my part. I can't help but feel I've earned a rest after those four mortal years of killing myself ... but letting go isn't nearly as hard as it should be. I suspect I'll miss the people more than anything, the little reminders that I'm loved, but school had always been a means to an end for me, a way to do what I really love. I said goodbye to my stages, my performances, my time in the spotlight. Tomorrow is my time to have fun with John on stage. I love singing duets.
I'm going on a tangent again.
So graduation practice begins in earnest tomorrow. And my cap and gown are sitting on the bed next to me. It's really happening, we're really doing it. I'm going to walk down the aisle, all in white, ring on my finger, roses in my arms, heels making my feet throb ... and I'm going to graduate. A minor triumph of gigantic proportions for a girl with such gragantuan expectations for herself. I'm going to do it, really, truly, do it.
We deserve this you know. This achievement, this ceremony, the praise and the glory. The pride. I have all these memories flashing across my mind in bits and pieces, that I can't quite express. The only thing that's really solid, real and there for me right now is the fact that time is passing. My class, my girls, my school, my saddle shoes, my plaid. Our pride.
We deserve this.