If I could freeze time, it'd be high school years that I want to replay over and over again. For every smiles and hellos exchanged, every all-day-all-night activities, every dreams and problems shared... Every simple things that happened in high school.
When 10th Grade ended, I was miserable to part with my class, xevenovica. I was so sure 10th Grade would be the best time of high school, hence all videos on YouTube, blogposts, tweets that we all made to record everything during the year. We spent every moment together at class for months as much as possible, even when it was already dark outside and school was closing until security kicked us out to go home. We had the best time traveling for a week on the bus around Java island. We cried together when the academic year ended, although it was only the end of 10th Grade and none of us moved out to another school so technically we were still together at Smansa. It was sad, nonetheless.
For the first time, I was exposed to the real experience about being a responsible young-adult this year. Learned the meaning of commitment and endurance. About doing things I first like then despise, and eventually loathe, yet stay committed to it. Began my teenage dream journey, a dream that fuelled me every time I felt down. Being tied at hearts with xevenovica, a super cheesy term but we literally call it that way --we played games and prayed and did things to tie our hearts tighter--.
It turned out I was totally wrong. 10th Grade wasn't the best time of high school. Analogically, 10th Grade was Sayuti Melik and 11th Grade was Moch. Hatta. Second year at Smansa was the true definition of pull-your-hair-out, can't-sleep-until-late-at-night. The pressure was high, expectations and hopes were sky-rocketed. Despite everything, the most important things were people that surrounded me, new friends inside and outside Smansa, new experiences, new city to explore. I learned the essence of love without expectation this year. About puzzle of people, about giving without asking back, about managing my feeling. It was a stressful and exhausting year, yet I cherish it.
For the second time, I wrote a blogpost in the end of my second year in Smansa that of course 11th Grade was the best.
Then I went to the USA. It was, hands down, a very maturing experience. It was about stumble down then get up so many times I lost count. It was about new family, new home, new country. A new world. About travel, party and celebration of life on one hand, and tears, bruises and frustration on the other hand. It was about feeling grateful. There isn't a word to fully define exchange year.
Then, I stopped defining my year in high school.
I know I'd been granted additional year to be a high school student, an extra year I enjoyed to the very marrow of my bone.
You know that moment when you accidentally found a group of people that coincidentally fits you. It began when five of us, inside an empty class, talking about things that give meaning to our lives. Then four of them decided to volunteer at an organisation I volunteer at. Since then, they were the aloe vera to my burns, the highlight of my last year at high school. An eccentric combination, spread in three cities and two countries.
I don't know when a feeling of closure came. Maybe when I went to Smansa last June when school was out for break, and thought I'd been four years here yet it felt like four minutes ago was my first day of school. Maybe when I finally hold my diploma. Maybe it was yesterday when I hugged a teary-eyed dear friend in Margonda Raya boulevard on 8 pm at night, saying see you a second before she boarded to Bandung to begin her first year at college. Because it could be our last meeting before I depart to Japan.
Maybe the feeling of closure comes as I finish this writing. As I've shared my high school life here since the very beginning.
In the span of 2011-2015, I found new meanings of love, life, dedication, empathy, determination, and most importantly, I found home.
For it is in the core of my very heart when I feel harmony with myself.
And this is a closure, people. Ciao.