Scribblings

3 May 2013, 23:27

I used to walk these hall every day. And every day, I dreaded walking these halls. What would they say? What would they do? Would they measure what I was wearing; how messy my hair was; how little make-up I had on? Never did I walk these halls with my head held high. I looked down. Out of fear. Fear of what might happen if my eyes caught theirs.

            What ya lookin’ at, freak?

I used to walk these halls afraid. I used to look at the floor, at people’s feet. Being back brings back memories, memories that still haunts me in my sleep, memories that turn my dreams to nightmares. Being back is making me wish I didn’t return. It’s too soon. So much has changed, and yet so little. It’s all coming back to me. I remember everything. How I used to hide out in the library. How being around books, especially the old classics – the love stories – became my comfort. My escape.

            Why did I come back for this? Why did I return? These people gave me nothing.

I returned for one reason, and one reason only: to show them I got over it. That no matter how much they tried, they could not break me. I returned to get my revenge. However, now I’m not sure I made the right decision. If I turned around and exited the building, no one would even know I had been here. It would be as it used to be. I would walk these halls as a ghost; a ghost longing for the great escape.

She stopped next to a row of lockers, took a deep breath and decided it wasn’t worth the pain. Instead of entering, she turned around and walked back the way she had come. That’s when she saw him. Her heart picked up the pace; her cheeks started burning. All she wanted was to disappear. Become the freak people didn’t always notice; one among the crowd.

There was only one problem, there was no crowd. He had seen her and she saw recognition in his eyes. Her feet was rooted to the spot. He was walking towards her and she couldn’t move. He looked even better now than he did in high school. College had been good to him and he was handsome in his suit. The closer he got, the more her body was shaking. She was so certain he had seen her. But, instead of saying hello, he walked past her and continued towards the cafeteria. Her heart exploded with pain and anger. She felt hurt. How could he still hate her after all these years?

Why did she come back for this? She should have known nothing good could have come from it. The people here had never given her anything. Her revenge wasn’t worth it. She was still walking these halls as a ghost. What good was revenge if they didn’t notice her – if they didn’t see her?

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2013/2014

I realize I’ve been a little MIA lately; but time as flown by. I finished my exams and went home for Christmas. Finally, there was time to relax and sleep the hours away. No getting up to reach the library by eight. Then Christmas became New Year’s Eve. Wavy hair, smoky eye make-up, a new dress bought for the occasion, beer and good company. The New Year got off to a great start. 2013 was such a fantastic year and I can only hope that 2014 will continue down that same road. 

 

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It had to come. The way I’ve been pushing myself lately I had to hit the wall, eventually. It would be a miracle if it was possible to keep going on the way I have.

Up at 6.30; coffee, breakfast and shower; be at the library by eight, preferably a few minutes before eight; study at the library until 5-6 o’clock; go home, change, eat a banana and then hit the gym; be at the gym for a few hours and have a kickass workout; go home, shower and eat dinner; then spend a few hours on the couch before bedtime.

Then you do it all over again the next day and the next until you reach the wall; until the day you hit the wall. The wall isn’t something you reach, it something hitting you in the face when you least expect it. It hits you at a time when you feel great but deep down you’re not. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, have ignored the signs and just kept going. On Friday I hit that wall. After nearly 10 hours in the library I broke down when I came home.

Luckily, there was music and there was rain. So I went for a walk. I think I cried a bit too but who saw? It might as well have been rain.

I love the rain. I love when the ground gets wet. I love that after a little rain you might get lucky and see a rainbow glisten. I love the little puddles; and the big puddles. I become a child again. I jump in them. I don’t care who sees me. I live in my own world which is a little bit crazy; a little bit weird; and a little bit normal. My world is awesome, sometimes. Other times I wish it wasn’t my world. Times when everything seems to go wrong; when the world seems to be against me. But it doesn’t happen that often anymore, that the world is against me and it doesn’t last for days like it used to. I like to think it has something to do with me finally being able to change my life for the better.

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. Still, when the clock struck twelve on New Year’s Eve I promised myself that 2013 would be the year I finally fixed my life; fixed my world. I promised myself that 2013 would be the year I finally fixed what was broken years ago; I decided that I wasn’t going to let it define me anymore. Because why let my past define who I am, when I’m clearly not that girl anymore? When it’s evident I’ve actually changed? And I’ve changed a lot; not just the four-five months since 2013 started but since I moved away from home four-five years ago. That’s when I started changing. It’s taken me awhile but I finally feel it. I finally feel the change.