February 27, 2001
Thoughts on Graduation
Maybe that moment would belittle all the rest. If only she could capture the ordinariness of it, the common, unrivaled beauty of what she could no longer take for granted; a scant three minutes she would celebrate for a now limited number of mornings.
This was her life. The bare-bones cold of the hall by the door, the pale concrete and steel of their lockers and the wall. He would have his arms around her.
The others would be opposite them or milling about, laughing; their smiles frozen on their faces. There would be choruses of greetings, like children in grade school when you had to be considerate of everyone, even on Valentine's Day when you had to give your worst enemy the card most absent of sentiment.
But now they chose to. It was both their routine and their desire.. It was in that hall that she learned her greatest lessons.
Now a limited number of mornings would she giggle at their jokes, blush at his smile, slam her locker door shut and complain about her teachers or her mother, share her books (and sometimes her homework), trip up the stairs, admire his eyes. Now a limited number of mornings would she find herself here, beating upon the glass that seperated her from her future; beating upon it and yet hoping it will not break before she is ready for it.
Wondering if she will ever be ready for it.
astera at 6th period and idle