Karen and I visited (sneaked in, actually) our old high school campus last Sunday. Funny because the high school memories are so vague now. Even strolling in the deserted halls failed to bring up vivid memories (not that I have a very reliable memory to begin with), only flashes of some happy images. I can't even remember the miserable parts of my high school life now...only those happy days spent with friends.
Our school library was actually responsible for my myopic eye. haha! I used to wait for my sister here after classes. I wonder what happened to my library card? I should have kept it as a memento. Every library card I had from Freshman year to Senior year was fully decorated and worn out by the end of the school year. I like to be smothered with the smell of old books. It was strangely comforting.
We found St. James' classroom! Sophomore year our time, this used to be on the second floor overlooking the fish pond. The view of the heavy rain from the previous St. James classroom was breathtaking, which the younger generations can no longer appreciate because of the eyesore that is the Conrado Dela Cruz Sports Center.
Catholic school girls.
High school friends are those friends who grew up with you, saw you when you were a pimply, hormonal, angsty teenager with a lot of issues and put up with you all these years. They saw you during your most awkward. Not only that, they shared virtually the same experiences with you. They were practically one of the human forces that tethered me to my sanity all through high school. Let me be a little maudlin and thank my high school friends for being a force to be reckoned with all these years. Thank you for accepting my cranky, belligerent, opinionated, vain and sharp-tongued self.