College

College.

That shit scares me.

My friends however, talk about about it as easy as one can talk about their favourite book. They talk about how their buildings will be near each other they could meet up during break time. They talk about the classes they will be attending, whether they will have the same boring ass, monotone teacher in history or the same cool, young, hot physics teacher.

They basically talk about how it’s awesome being in the same school as the other.

They talk about how they got into their dream school.

I don’t have that luxury.

What I have in my reach are my crushed dreams into going to the same school as the friends I’ve been with through some tough shit with. What I have are the remnants of my hope into getting into my dream school, a school I’ve wanted to join ever since I was a small kid.

What I have right now is just a back row seat to watch my dreams become reality for other people

College. A word that used to appeal to me now taste like hot sand in my already burning tongue.

I don’t want to stop them from talking about it though. They deserve to talk about. They got their dreams.

So whenever they do talk about it, I just listen in silence, hoping that they would stop soon but of course they don’t because they are too wrapped up in their fantasy.

I’m not bitter, don’t get me wrong.  I am so proud of them that I feel as if I could start a parade around the world in their honour.

But when they do continue talking about it, I just smile. When they ask me about where I’m headed; I answer briefly.

And smile again.

College; a crushed dream.

Goodbye.

And hello.

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