I did not like it back then.
Neither do I like it now either.
Yet when I think about it… it feels as though much has gone to waste. I mean:
It is just ten minutes away from home – but I have not paid even one visit to my primary school since I left in 1995.
It is just fifteen minutes away from my primary school – but I have not gone back to my high school since I left in 2000.
It is just five minutes away from my current workplace – but I have not dared to venture into my university again since I left in 2005.
I am now content just reading glowing reports of the schools’ achievements come the annual release of examination results, stalking relevant blogs, browsing through that social network service, looking at photos of ex-classmates and former friends of mine.
Hmm. Former friends, because, obviously, we are friends no more. We were once; but not now – that is for sure. And also because, quite frankly, I am often too tired to give a damn about these things anymore. I leave it to others to unravel the threads for me.
Understandably, this is one of the things that I feel proud of, and for all the wrong reasons.
That I can be your “friend” today but your no-one tomorrow; that I can be oh-so-sure that I can survive this on my own; and that I can bear to dissociate and freely banish all that has mould me into who I am today.
And I don’t feel nothing.