A Broken Heart Can Be Mend In Many Ways

High School

I never saw my music teacher ever again but I will forever remember him.

But I had one problem. I had obtained my diploma yes, but my grades weren't good enough to be integrated into the high school I desired to go to therefore I made the decision to repass my year but in another school. The one I had chosen was quite posh and I felt even lonelier than I did before. The idea of starting over however quickly motivated me and I worked quite hard on making up my grades to be able to go to this particular high school. I did quite great the whole year and in almost all subjects, Even in mathematics and science which are domains I am far from being great in! I was rather proud of myself, I was making it up and studying this hard for something I wanted so badly made me feel great. Plus, it was a good way to escape living. Focused on history, French literature and English, I continued writing and singing because it was the only way I knew how to express myself. I had to stop the conservatory though because of the planning I had and no time to schedule music classes.

This year went quite quickly and I was scared to move on to other subjects. It had found admirable and comprehensive teachers in that posh school who had supported me through the year and encouraged me to follow my dreams. Their names are forever stuck in my mind. Particularly my French teacher. She was the only one to understand my fascination for Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac and Charles Baudelaire. She was the one I turned to when I wrote my first play (sadly still unfinished). Saying goodbyes was hard and I still regularly think about them all. I miss that period. I was still innocent in a certain kind of way. I was not alarmed by the world's situation, nor even my own. It did not appear as a normal behavior to me because I was not like the other children but I was fine with this. I did not want to be as gullible or as naive as the other children. I liked being on my own and thinking. Or more precisely, dreaming. I passed my last year in secondary school alone but happy. My grades were fine and I was opening up to people, though they were mostly adults. I ultimately was accepted in the high school I was almost craving to go to. They had a drama class and great language teachers, or so I was told, therefore I was quite impatient for the holidays to end.

This year, the summer holidays seemed to be the longer period ever to me. Weird huh? Most students wish summer holidays would never end or more particularly, they wish not to go back to school. I was the opposite. I almost always was. I now am not so different of them anymore. But back then, I guess I could have sold mother and father to be with thinking adults again. Can you just imagine a kid say that nowadays? Being away from their phones and videos games? They usually think that it is the worst thing in the world. Not me. Didn't have a cell phone because I had no one to use it with. No video games either, I couldn't see the point. I just needed books and teachers. And I got them.

The first day of the school year arrived and I was so excited that I had not been able to sleep the night before. I had spent it choosing my clothes and reading anew the last book we had to read during the holidays. I knew no one would have read them but I did it anyway. It was a way to keep my head occupied. Since my high school was not in my home town, my parents had gotten me a cell phone. I only had their numbers and a few songs. The bell rang and I got to the hall to know to which class I was supposed to go. 32 students. This is going to be noisy and messy. With difficulty, I got to the classroom where I saw three girls waiting. Two of them where taking and I assumed they knew each other. They seemed kind but they were younger than me, and way less darkened by time. The third girl, however, was leaning on the door, and looking straight at me. Ashamed of my poor looks and very shy, I got to a corner in the hallway and put my music louder.

The third girl never took her eyes off of me.

Eventually, she came up to me and introduced herself.

Her name was Mary.

~ Eli G.