TWO WEEKS. It was only two weeks left before graduation, but none of us really looked like we had absorbed it yet, or grasped the idea of finally having the diploma we have worked for for the past four years. Miguel and I sat on the bench overlooking the field’s grandstand, both of us had that dazed look in our eyes. It became like this after passing all our requirements and finishing all our exams. After the last period had ended, we didn’t speak and just looked at each other. Before we knew it, our feet dragged us to the place where we had bonded, and eventually fallen in love.
I first broke the silence, asking him, “Hey, is there such a thing as graduation jitters?” My question had somewhat pulled him out of a trance, but he still continued to stare at the empty field across from us. “Yeah, I think so. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I think I’m having one at the moment.” He chuckled, and when he replied “Yeah I think I’m having one too,” the bubbling anxiety inside of me seemed to lessen. I hold his hand tight and laugh at his remark. Because of constant deadlines and preparations for finals, the past two months had been a blur, a hazy and lucid memory of sleepless nights and constant exhaustion. And now that we had passed through the hurdles, there exists an anxiety of going past through the finish line.
It was as if we were at a standstill, at the cusp of youth and adulthood. We stare at the darkness, an obscure image that stirs an ineffable sensation within us. With his soft voice Miguel speaks, “I wish we know what the future holds for us.” I breathe in the air around us, a saccharine attempt to capture this moment. Perhaps my silence was enough for him to understand how we should just take everything in. Its quietness had led us to hear the thumping in our chest. Instead of fear, I felt a certain rush. I pull myself closer towards him and smile, “This is a new chapter, shouldn’t we be excited instead?”
Miguel smiles in return. In two weeks these feelings could heighten, but I know it would be fine. Our hearts should know what comes next. F KRIZIA MAICA G. MAGBITANG