It’s the people I knew in high school. Why is it always about high school?
I began to see them one by one, flooding the open concourse in a single file. Some I recognized by their faces, some I recognized by a uniform that’s all too familiar in high school. They moved, slowly, ignoring my gestures to call to their attention. Some of them looked at me, only to turn their heads away in nonchalantly, as if I was never there. As if I never existed.
I could only feel the hurt. Even if it was all those years ago. Even if I’ve convinced myself that I’ve moved on. I still felt left out. It was an event. I wasn’t invited. How could I not feel anything else but being hurt? They all went away to eat. To enjoy the company of one another. Leaving me sitting on the cold floor. Wondering what should I do next.
Then she came. The one I stand with now. The one who stands with me now. Bringing with her plates of sustenance. I wasn’t hungry. It didn’t look delicious. I didn’t care. She brought it to me. Accompanying me where others had long since left and abandoned. I remember smiling my sad smile. I remember her enjoying the meal she brought. The moment was supposed to be good. The moment felt hollow.
My eyes opened in the dark. The beating of my heart echoed in my ears. Clutched around my arms was not the one I stood with now, but a soft comfort that was better than nothing.
“Damn.” I swore silently before rolling over trying to get back to sleep once again.
It’s always about high school. Why does it always have to be about high school?