Don't You?

Don't you miss high school? I don't mean all the time; heck, we're too busy living to spend too much time thinking about it, but don't you miss it at least every now and again? Like sometimes when you're alone, or hear a particular song on the radio, or see a car just like your old one, or see an old friend, or even when the troubles of life are all over you, as if they crawled right up your back bone and piled high on your shoulders and you just needed something to take your mind off that for awhile?

The going there. The bus or car or the route you walked. Maybe the anticipation of getting there so you can talk about the latest whatever or whoever in your life. The friends you made a point to see first, if you didn't ride or walk with them along the way.

The halls. The noise. The banging of the lockers. Maybe catching a last smoke before class, but only out back of the school. Never in front. Or realizing at the last minute that you didn't do the English or math or biology or history homework, but really didn't care since you could weasel out of it or copy it from somebody. Or wishing you started the day with Study Hall so you could lay your head down.

Dragging your feet to get to class as near to the last bell as you could. Look and see who was wearing something new, and did you like it? Hearing the teacher asking everybody to take a seat -- their usual seat, not the one over by the window or near one of your good friends. Hearing Mrs Watkins, at least once a week, reminding one the guys about taking a shower after gym class. After all, boys should be aware of hygiene too.

The even louder halls between classes. Half a dozen guys running to get to where they needed to be. (I never saw a girl run to class). The smell of lunch and trying to guess what it was as you were going down the steps. Sitting in almost the same seats in the cafeteria and with the same people. Dredding the afternoon classes because you knew you were going to get sleepy on a full stomach, especially with Miss Mize droning on and on.

And the odd feeling at the end of the day when part of you was glad to be going home even though at least a small part of you was already looking forward to coming back the next day.

It was all there. The joy, the anxiety, the hope, the trials and tribulations of your young life. At that time, at that age, this place was THE biggest part of your life. Your friends, and in some cases your enemies, were there. Your future was too. You were already planting those seeds if not already realizing who you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

Don't you miss high school? Even just a little?