Highschool

         The first day is always the hardest. It still is. No matter where you go or what the first day is about, it is the most terrifying that an individual can ever go through. I remember my first day here, seeing that it was not that long ago. It sometimes feels like forever, but the memories make it feel like yesterday.

As I entered that classrooms, I tried to be one of the first in, so that no one could stare at me as a stranger interupted their now so familiar atmosphere. Even being the first in the rooms didn't help. Glancing up as others entered through the doorway to see them glancing over or staring at an unfamiliar face was enough to make me slouch down in the uncomfortable seats.

Some approached, seemingly friendly but turning out to be just some of those who try and put you into some sort of clique. There was one class left, after a long day of hiding and being stared at, trying to become use to the tides of students in the hallways. I couldn't remember where it was, so I ended up being late. I walked in, blushing for being the centre of unwanted attention.

The teacher had not helped, asking me to stand up and say something about myself. I couldn't speak, for the nerves racing through me after seeing him. I noticed him in the hallways, and I could see him glancing over, wondering if he would approach or not. He didnt that day. Fairly few did. It was an Art Class, and nobody wanted to be there with the teacher crowing over them.

After a week or so, people started opening up, after realizing that I was not such a threat. A quiet shy girl, that stands up for herself. A few had already seen some of those things, by the prissy girls pushing at things better left in the past, and of crowds that made me turn tail and hide.

He approached one day, along with a few others, that changed tables to sit with me. The three of us at that table became good friends, along with others in the class that were alot more friendly then they seemed. Jokes were shot around, friendly flirting as usual. He ended up having a girlfriend, but I didn't care. He had become the closest thing to a best friend that I have ever had to me.

Months after I had been here, the semesters switched, and I was not placed in any classes with those faces I came to know. The first day had come back, and I had to start over. The shyness, the quietness, the things that will never pass. But in the free time of lunch and between classes, the group had always managed to find eachother.

He and I had become close, too close for his girlfriends approval apparently. They ended up splitting, and she blamed it on me. She had my cellphone number and constantly sent me messages through text. I ended up talkign her out of some very harmful moves, which she couldn't understand. Thats just how I am, I would hate myself while taking away another persons pain.

After a while, him and I hooked up. We were best friends, loved to spend time with eachother, and thought we loved eachother. It soon became known to me, not him, that it was not love, just a teenage infatuation. But he was the one to leave, to have feelings for one of his ex, not the one I had known. That was lately.

I do not hate him or dislike him. I feel sorry for him, for those like him, that cannot seem to make up their minds. We have just started talking again, but not face to face. I cannot do that yet. He has been the first to earn my trust in a long time, and now I have gone back to hiding. A fragile thought broken by a surge of feelings and emotions.

As I have said many times before, and I will continue to say it until the last day, It is only highschool, not the rest of our lives.