Graduate. And failing to do that gave a painful feeling of despair as if the sky had fallen.
I recalled the night before the graduation day. I looked around and saw that all looked normal, everyone lived their lives as usual.
A terrible anguish and an incredible sadness overwhelmed me. How come anyone smiled, laughed and be normal when I had not been okay at all. How this had turned out to be a long and solitary journey. For the first time, since I have long since forgotten, a momentary fear of loneliness barged in. How I had wished someone, anyone, had consoled me then, scolded me —for procrastinating, for not having the courage to say ‘no’, for biting off more than I could chew— or just even stood there silently until the fear subsided.
In the end, a bit of hope, that all was not lost, did flicker. Looking back now, I wonder what had gotten over me that I had succumbed to the blues.
It’s the third day of 2015 already. Although Jamie Cullum’s “resolutions, they come and go…” (Next Year Baby) sounds ever ominous, I will graduate this year.
I sincerely hope everyone has a wonderful year ahead.