
It’s been about a week since I first drove to school by myself, and I know it might not be such a big deal to many, but for me, it’s a milestone that I’ve passed. “With great power comes great responsibility” but for me “with a car of your own comes ginormous responsibility” and it just feels very foreign to go to and back from school alone. No Mum or Dad waiting for me at the porch to pick me up, no catching a few winks in the car on the way home from school. Despite my initial enthusiasm to drive to school alone (or in my Dad’s words, “gila steering”-ness), the foreignness can be very unsettling sometimes. It is a banner, a sign being waved in my face telling me that I’m grown up now.
I’m grown up now and my strawberry fields aren’t forever.
In fact, the end of my teenage years is much more eminent now since I’m going to be graduating from high school tomorrow. I’m graduating from high school tomorrow. I’m graduating from high school tomorrow. Imagine that! I’m graduating from high school tomorrow! After five years of whining about secondary education every day, I only have two weeks left to whine about it.
And so many things have happened over the span of five years, some which have certainly permanently changed the course of my life that it feels so strange and wrong to leave all of a sudden. I stepped into Asma as a Form One student knowing that this day would come, but no one ever told me that I’ll never be prepared for it.
Currently, the thought of graduation makes me feel excited yet a little nauseous. My quitter self has considered chickening out several times but who are we kidding? YOGO (You only graduate once).
Of late, I’ve also been more prone to vulnerability. I’m not quite sure if it’s part of growing up or the increasing stress of SPM, but it’s a huge hindrance on my part. Aunty Amelia said I was the kind of person to be really high one moment, and then really low the next, so I’m thinking this is one of those mood swings which, hopefully, will be able to wear off as easily as the other past swings have. I was also hoping that talking about it would alleviate the anxiety. I don’t know. I really do need a control switch to make me stop thinking too much.
Um, bye