(reposted from my Tumblr account)
I’ve never been good at graduation ceremonies. My awkward nature and perpetual bad luck just isn’t cut out for solemn events. I distinctly remember that time in my kindergarten graduation where I actually predicted making a fool of myself in front of the whole school. The whole program I was convinced that my graduation cap – a stiff square that did not fit my head at all for some reason – was going to fall off at some point. I was right. During my class’s little song presentation, some idiot kid behind me sent my cap flying right off my head. I wasn’t even surprised, just mortified that it just had to happen right then. Even as a tiny tot I was clumsy and almost scarily perceptive of my own ill fate.
Then there was my elementary graduation. I don’t remember the ceremony all that well. It was all just a blur to me. But I do remember my graduation picture. I looked terrible. Fatigued, messed up, and just sad. A sad, sad kid that probably knew that the dog days were over and that high school was going to be hell. I threw away that graduation picture the moment I had the chance. Now I have no physical proof of that picture ever been taken and I couldn’t be happier.
My high school graduation was slightly less awful. However, admittedly, if it was anything it was a bit anticlimactic. There were no tears (though we had feared they would come bursting out of us), no emotional moments, nothing that really stood out. I think we were all just kind of drained after a week of graduation practice. Not that it did much good since we still forgot to sit down and stand up in unison regardless of how many times we practiced it (and we practiced it way too many times).
Last March 25th’s ceremony was… not at all what I had expected. Truth be told, I felt rather detached from it all. I think the whole gravity of the situation – graduating from college after so many years… finally being free of academic confinement… all that adulthood jazz – didn’t really sink in. I kind of just robotically went up stage and took my diploma. You’d have thought getting that damned piece of paper after almost four years of blood, sweat, and tears would have felt more, I don’t know, emotional. The ‘moment’ that I had waited for hardly felt anything close to what I had imagined. There was no burst of happiness, no overwhelming feeling of satisfaction, no sense of fulfillment. It was just a few seconds of trying very hard not to trip and fall on my pinching high heels. I’m pretty sure I even forgot to smile for the camera when I reached to get my diploma. The significance and weight of the moment didn’t even register. I wasn’t even nervous, believe it or not.
Perhaps I’ve numbed myself yet again to avoid the onslaught of emotions that always seem to threaten to drown me. I do tend to do that, steel myself to the point of apathy, one that I can neither remember when I got to or snap myself out of. It’s weird how outrageously sentimental I am but worryingly stoic when it really matters.
This didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to be. Again. I meant to write something sentimental or at least nostalgic but I honestly couldn’t muster enough emotion. Seems like I’m pretty much ready for adulthood.