"The memory of being here with you is one I'm gonna take my whole life through 'cause some days stay gold forever."
Four years. It took me four years to fully realize that my second family has somehow changed who I am. It took me four awfully short years to realize and internalize that they have become a part of me. In those four years, a lot has happened.
First Year. This was the year when I met 41 twelve- and thirteen-year-old's who were going through puberty with their raging hormones. Each of them was different. I was different, too. This was the year I got grades which dropped to the line of seven in one grading period. But This was the year I met people who helped me stand back up when I got pushed down by problems, insecurities, pressure, and those awfully low grades. I was able to know the people--people whom I thought were very different--a little more in a period of ten months. And that was the year the cycle of dramas started.
Second Year. As expected, the dramas continued. On my second year in high school, things started to change. I got to mingle more with my other classmates. I became distant from others, and so did they from me. But in that very same year, I found two people who are now two of the best people I have ever become friends with. They are the two people who, until now, texts and updates me with their lives, and I with mine. Thus, the journey of high school, and all the dramas that came with it, became more fun!
Third Year. During this year, our class faced a myriad of problems, bitterness, and the like. It was like the Dark Ages Version 2.0. We were threatened with suspension. We were warned that we would be disbanded. We were in a state of chaos. But all these didn't make a difference. In the end, we were still one. Heck, we were stronger. We became a force that nature dare not mess with... or at least the school dare not mess with.
Fourth Year. Where it all ends. Or does it, really? Honestly, I couldn't put into words how much this year had put me in such a heartbroken state. Every fourth year student must have felt the same, of course. But the difference is that: for me, this was the year I looked forward to for three years. Yet, when it all started to dawn upon me how hard it was for me to even think that we were going to part, I started to panic. My heart and mind didn't seem to agree with anything. Well, anything but one. I wasn't ready to let go.
I hadn't known how attached I had become to them. It came to a point that I became depressed even more than I already was. It may sound very melodramatic, but I cried several times because I missed them.
During my first year, I had no idea who they were, and what they were capable of. All I knew was that I had instinct which told me they would become a huge part of me. In my fourth and final year, I proved my instinct right. They have become a huge part of who I am now. And I miss the days I used to spend with them. I miss all the moments we made. I just miss them. So. Friggin'. Bad.
