I knew it was a strange day when I saw my high school come into view without something in my headphones. Somewhere along the way, I’d put them on and forgotten about them. People talked around me as usual, but I didn’t hear any of it while boarding off.
I walked through the halls slowly, each step registering like a stone tossed into water, until I stopped in the middle.
I panicked.
Around me were colorful brick walls of past seniors’ mural blocks, desperate remnants of their last messages. Students were rushing past me as the loud bell rang, and then, it was all quiet again.
I wouldn’t have even remembered the day if a teacher dressed in an inflatable Cupid costume hadn’t sprinkled candy on me and said “Happy Valentine’s Day!” before waddling by.
Google says that I dissociated.
Usually, people dissociate for a reason, but I don’t remember mine. My brain did its job too well.
While I spent the rest of the year wondering why it happened, looking back now, I realize I don’t have many memories of my senior year or of my schooling either. Of course, there are snippets with friends and outings with family, colorized vividly in my mind, but not much comes up between the tan brick walls of my education.
Thankfully, though, that hasn’t been the case in college.
No two days go the same, and in keeping up with everything around me instead of mourning the past, I’ve made memories. I remember the oppressive heat of my summer orientation, the first time I walked into my calculus class and the nerve-wracking audition I gave for the speech team.
In having new things to look back on, I’ve slowly started to remember the old stuff too.
When I hear someone talking about U of M, I recall the days when my friend and I sat in the library for hours trying to improve our SAT scores to fit their standard.
Back then, every day was italicized with anxiety and dread for college. But now, being in the future that I was so afraid of reframes everything I was worried about. In shifting my view, I can say that maybe those bad days weren’t bad because of what happened, but because I was too busy living in terrible scenarios.
I could spend today making the same mistake of dreading what-ifs, but I know now that even if it takes me to a better place, I won’t have anything to reminisce on.
Today matters just as much as tomorrow, and even if it took my brain hitting the shutoff button for me to see that, I’m grateful for the memories I’ve got to make along the way.
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