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about time

by M

After my performance was over, the make up removed and my hair tied in a messy half up-do, I sat on the floor with Emma, next to a couple of teacher's chairs. They smiled and congratulated and after awhile, one of them handed me a camera and asked if I wanted to take pictures. I did, I'm always down to snap some shots, but only a couple of moments did I stop to think about it... There's supposed to be a certain gap between teachers and students - even if that gap it's just "authority" -, yet there I was, sitting beside them, almost midnight on a Friday night, taking pictures with a camera that was trusted to my hands so nonchalantly, like I was just anyone they knew, not their student. Which I'm not anymore, it's been a while. 


I've been going to that same school for 7 years now, and only in that moment did I realize how much of home it is. I've been dealing with roughly the same group of teachers, going up the same old beat up stairs, spending breaks in the same corners, since I was 10... That place and those people have been a part of my life for long enough for it to be absolutely second nature to even just live there. So at that moment I sat on that red chair, beside my old teacher, taking pictures of familiar faces, I stopped to think about how it's the last time I'll experience that ever again... I'll never have school concerts on Friday night again, I'll never have to wait in line for cafeteria again, I'll never stay late for rehearsals again. As these things come to an end, one by one, I realize how I'll miss it. It's not even about High School itself - I hate it and it was one of the worst experiences of my entire life so far -, but so much about that bulding and those people and the things I've done and conquered in there. 


The weirdest part is not thinking about how everything is ending... I guess I'm too excited (& terrified) for whatever next year brings, leaving school will be such a relief. The weird thing is thinking about how everything will just stay the same in there. There'll still be an opening cerimony and mass, and they'll call my name as one of the gradutes, but I won't be sitting in the bleachers watching. There'll still be a concert next january, but I won't be skipping lessons to rehearse nor running around the hallways in sweatpants and socks. There'll still be teachers teaching and students studying, field trips to go to, spring parties on june; my Portuguese teacher will still sit on top of the desk and quote Os Maias with that spark on his eye; the waitress at the café will still laugh and squeek hysterically; the headmaster will still walk around throwing 'good mornings' ocasionally. Everything is so ultimate for me, yet everything is going to be exactly the same in that place. Point is, I don't find it particularly sad to leave, it's the thought of things carrying on forever without me being there to watch  for the first time in 7 years that bothers me... and not in a selfish way.


I'll miss it. More than I ever thought I would.