No Title Is Worthy For The People I Mean In This Post (Hashtag Uso Ang Capitalization, Bes?)

"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. 

My Kaleidoscope Life

If I were a mixture, I would be the most complex heterogeneous mixture in this universe. Or not. 

I'm someone who can be such a pain in the arse. Why, you might ask? Well, to be honest, I couldn't even comprehend my thoughts and feelings at times. There are moments when I fully understand my emotions, yes, but trust me... It happens rarely. (And to think that I've been trying to master reading myself for 17 years and a couple of months!) Unfortunately for me--as well as everyone else around--I still haven't figured out why exactly am I this "kaleidoscopic" type of person.

See, in my early childhood, I have always been used to being the center of attention. I felt as if the spotlight was focused on me, and only me. I was the first great-granddaughter of my great-grandparents, the first grandchild of my grandparents, and the first born of my mother and father. I have this feeling that I was the apple of their eyes... at least until my spotlight-snatcher sister came four years after I was born. But you know what? That was actually one of the best things that happened to me in my life. I became an "ate". Soon after that, my other cousins came, and--let me be melodramatic about this--I became history. I became invisible.

My mom used to tell me how different my sister is from me. On a positive note, she said I was more mature during my pre-adolescent years than my sister during her own. I must say, I quite agree. I have always tried to control my feelings, thoughts, and words. I never learned to "reason out" with my parents until I was in high school. I thought I have finally understood why this is how I am. But no, it seems like I was mistaken. Perhaps I'm this complicated because I tried not to complicate my life. Well, look at how it ended up--nothing but the complete opposite of what I wanted to happen. That's one of the greatest realization I have encountered: I over-think things too much (note: Redundancy was meant to exaggerate stuff).

Having mentioned high school earlier, I shall now tell you a summary of how I lived through the tough times of this stage. When I entered high school, I was this energy-filled, excited, unknowing, innocent, and proactive thirteen-year-old. When I got out, I became a rainbow zombie. (It sounds weird, I know.) That's how I summarize my so-called indescribable high school adventure. It might seem ironic, but I was indeed a rainbow zombie. I was in" haggard mode" all the time; I often talked nonsense about some stuff; and yet I still managed to radiate something I had not known I had: Kick-ass energy.

I know I don't have to tell you how amazing the roller coaster ride we call "high school", but let me at least share a few personal stuff about it. High school made me experience many things. But what I will never forget is that it was during this stage that I got to test my strengths, weaknesses, and limits. This, in turn, allowed me to gradually grasp a few important life lessons that will help in finding out the mystery behind my complexity. By the way, high school was the best. And I miss it.

I know this post doesn't explain the way I am as much as you expected it, but surely this has given you enough information that I am right. My life's probably a kaleidoscope: something that has different colors which symbolize how random I am, how colorful--even if some days are dull and boring--my days are, and how inexplicably indescribable my life is.