My highschool graduation was supposed to be the best moment in my life. Why? It was because it meant the start of a next chapter in life. It meant moving on from all the hardship and emotional pain I went through. But how could I continue moving on when a snippet of a horrible memory kept flashing back until now?
As far as I can remember, we were the most hated batch. They labeled us as proud, ungrateful and the most despicable students in the entire history of the campus. I wasn't entirely affected of that comment because I know within my heart and soul, how thankful I am for that school and for the teachers who became my second parents, despite a few who were cruel to me.
As a student, I wasn't the most likeable and the most favorited one. Perhaps because, I wasn't the pretty one, I wasn't the most confident. I wasn't the most talented. I wasn't the smartest. I was the bashful one. That was fine. I lived with that for I know I did my best to be a good person. I kept quiet most of the time. I wasn't a loner then, but certainly was not quite the talker. I had a hard time expressing myself.
I recalled, in my sophomore year, when my computer teacher pulled hardly my hair because I was using the CAPS lock key instead of the Shift key. I didn't cry out to complain. But it didn't occur to her why I couldn't absorb everything that she was lecturing about. I know I wasn't the dumbest, had she just gently corrected me. I didn't hold a grudge but I still can feel the hurt I've been through. She did not know that we were dealing with family issues at that time. She didn't know that during those times, my parents' relationship was on the rocks, and my parents weren't aware that I knew what was really going on. She could've been a little patient with me and did not grab the chance to let her "dislike" towards me known to me. She could've been also thankful at least, when she would let me write on the board, all the lessons we tackled, for my classmates to copy, and which I have to copy later on on my notes. Hadn't she and the other teachers realized that it was tiresome to copy from the notes of my classmates after I had written those on the blackboard? A simple "thank you" was enough.
My life wasn't as simple as that. Pretending that I was okay all along was a pretty hard thing to do. If I became an actor, I would've won an award for that. On the bright side, I told myself, maybe this was what I was good about. Having to bear all the issues on your own. I was grateful that I wasn't bullied (except one vivid memory I have during elementary days), and my schoolmates were good to me. I just wished that the bad things will just go away, those haunted memories would just be replaced by the good ones that my friends and I treasure.
Yes indeed, I've made friends, the good-natured clique. We may have differences but they gave me the happiest highschool memories and I would like to think that they still remained good friends, even if we have to deal with troubles on our own, as we speak. I admit I wasn't the very good friend that I wanted to be. I was too self-centered thinking about myself, protecting myself, being too cautious. Yet, I still end up devastated. Why can't I trust a lot of people? Why can't I be assured that when they say it was okay, I still feel it was not okay.
Back when we were rehearsing for our graduation ceremony, I was tasked to carry the medals and stuff to the altar during the Holy Mass offertory. Then the actual Mass came, nobody told me I wasn't going to bring that stuff anymore, during the start of the program. So being the good student that I was, I went to the back to supposedly do what I was to do during the practice. My classmate, on the spot, told me I was not supposed to carry it anymore, for he was told he should do it. I was dumb-founded. I went blank and I didn't know what to do. I ended up picking one offering that was grabbed angrily by the owner, telling me to piss off and scolding me for picking up her offering. There was one more gift left on the table and I didn't know why I just picked it up and went to the aisle and offered it. Turned out it was my friend's offering. I was just amazed why she wasn't mad at me. She went up to me after graduation and told me gently that it was her offering I held on to. And, she said that it was okay without even listening to my explanation. I can't even remember if I asked an apology for what I did. This memory is one that kept haunting me until now. I felt guilty for what I did. But, I really can't remember what happened to me at that moment. What kept registering on my mind is how I felt ashamed. To my friend and to classmate's mother who was so mad at me, I just hope deep in your heart, you had forgiven me. It was not like I wanted to tell everyone that I own it, I just felt that I had to carry something when I went back to aisle. That was a terrible mistake that I did.