My HRH Tale

     Coming home? Home to where high school life empties your memory bank.

     Honestly, I don't have a very happy high school life. My heartaches were three-fourths of my circle of fun. My first year diary told about excitement. I was excited about the new everything--uniform, classmates and teachers. I can picture the very first day I stood before class introducing myself -- my name, age and hobbies! More classmates came in turn up front. I remember my seatmate who found one classmate's flared up nose funny while talking. I came to imagine if my nostrils flared up the same and my seatmate reacted the same. I'd like to remember that she got to be amused and that there was no hint of bullying. At least, she was attentive. I felt that all I had was fussing over things that didn't even concern me. Add to things like these was the stiff competition over grades. I developed a bigger resentment on math subjects rooting that it was my Achilles' heel. My grandfather wasn't exempted with my unhappiness of the death of my first-honor status. He jokingly exclaimed to trade my honorable mention ribbon to the first honor's medal that day we were on stage alongside with the other honor students. 

     Sadness was really all over me when my chubbiness had its game on me. I was no exemption being picked on even if I was not that extra size. And the list of negative things went on. I did not excel on physical sports even with my sporty physique. Beauty contests were just for me to watch on and bet on who would take the crown.

     My line was always, "Why does my parents, particularly my father, not allow me to like party with friends or have us less work on weekend for us to have a bigger social life?" Calluses were real on my palms not just on my feet for new shoes beacuse of Saturdays'and Sundays'and holidays' weeding of our yard.

     Friendship was flambouyant coming to the point of no-speaking terms for days or weeks. Tears had their role in our melodramatic girlfriendship mended during retreats. I came from a Catholic school where religious retreats were occassionally conducted. 

     Envy  was my biggest sin then. I wrote a letter to my bestfriend saying how envious I was about her closeness to someone I wished I also had the same closeness with. The commotion reached the faculty. Anger was also a frequent commitment. I hated my teachers for the feel that they never favored me. I hated my friends' backstabbing. I hated my parents' strictness. I hated an aunt who said how fat I was. I hated my classmates who acted superior over me.

     The thinnest slice of my high school life's delights were a mix of screaming over my favorite boyband on daily or weekend countdown, screaming over a crush playong on the basketball court and screaming on our dogs' quarrelling. 

    And my high school life stage drew its curtain to end.

     High school alumni  homecoming, anyone? If work schedule permits, then I may go.