What’s School Anyways?

I decided today that the warm embrace of a duvet was much more welcoming that the idea of school. I just wasn’t in the mood for facing that numbing feeling, forgetting who you really are, as soon as you pass through the towering green gates.

I’ve practiced hanging my head in school, not for lack of confident, more of an obsession with discovering who’s feet are bigger than my own. The answer – everyone has bigger feet that me, I can think of one boy who shares a size 6, just like me. However, he’s probably 5 foot tall, not that I’m discriminating.

Maybe you’re thinking, why does shoe size matter? I ask myself the same, it doesn’t matter. In fact, it’s probably the most unimportant topic of the blog I will ever write about. I guess having a smaller shoe makes me less of a man, what even is a man? I don’t know how to define it. Is it someone who is tall and broad? Maybe someone who earns more money than the average person? I’d like to think it’s a brave person, a strong person. I don’t know if I am that, although I try to be.

In school, the majority don’t know me. Not the real me. Strangers probably know me better than some of my closest friends; strangers address me with the correct pronouns. I can’t blame those I’m close to, I haven’t told them anything really, I was hoping it would be obvious. Maybe I’m a coward for not telling them, but the truth is, I don’t understand why I owe it to them.

My friendship group isn’t exactly close knit, even though on the outside we appear to be. More bitching goes on inside our group, than I imagine anywhere else in my year group. That breaks my faith a little, because I would like to think that once upon a time, I would have done anything for the people I’m surrounded by. Now, I can’t even tell them my name.

What hurts the most, is that I used to love this school. I would go as far as to say that I was in love with it, and the potential. However, I never said that out loud, wanting to blend in with the crowd. Now, I can’t wait to see the place behind me, in the rear-view mirror, as most people write. Even though I don’t own a car, and won’t actually be driving away from it.

School was once a place that I felt safest, I would use it to ignore all my problems. It’s transformed to emphasise my problems, and make me feel like there is no overcoming, and I think of it as… one more day in the place, is one less day I have to go back.


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