Waiting for mom to get ready, waiting for dad to buy me something, waiting for friends to hang out with, waiting to receive results, waiting for my turn, waiting… I grew up waiting, always waiting. There was nothing I never waited for, nothing…
School drone its final bell as I stepped out of my final lecture. Nothing bored as much as sitting in a hall with a hoard of friends who only cared to sleep, and it didn't help that the teacher was that unappealing and monotonous. I sighed as I gathered my belongings and left the theatre.
That day, it was the usual; I was waiting for school to end. Yes, it finally did eventually end, but I had to wait again. Training only began at five-thirty. I checked my watch. There were still two long and dreary hours to kill, and wait.
'Aye, Klitz.' Someone came up to me, I could make out that it was a junior, but I wasn't sure who.
'Uh… Yes?' I raised an eyebrow.
She simply plopped her butt down in the chair, unaware that I was waiting for someone to join me. She went on about her Project Work and her team and every nit-grit detail about her efforts degenerating to waste. As I was the school's student council's counselling board director; my duty was to help troubled peers and juniors, like her. So I sat and listened.
When I was done with dealing with her problems, it was already an hour into training. I cursed myself for not handling my time well under my breath and hurried to the designated training room.
'Sorry sir, was held up.'
I flung my bag into the locker, grabbed my flute, and joined the team. I sat beside Kaysie, the girl whom I never could muster the courage to ask out – My dream girl.
'It's okay!' Kaysie gave me a toothy smile, 'You have the whole school to take care of.'
'Shut up and practice!' Bellowed the instructor, 'Late and you're still chatting?'
'Sorry sir.' That shut both of us up as we sat side by side, synchronizing our notes as we played.
'Hard work' She muttered under her breath as her body swayed to the melody.
I nodded. It was indeed a lot of hard work… Waiting. I was waiting for her whom I had been head over heels since elementary school to send me a message or just notice me. Waiting, waiting, and waiting… But to no avail. It was just plain weird though, that 'giving up' didn't seem to register in my mind.
Given I was the peer counsellor, my friends locked their thoughts from me cause they thought I knew how to handle my problems, because I could handle so many people's problems. I had several buddies who cared, but no one actually ever told me what a better alternative than waiting. Many girls did chase me, but I had eyes on no one but her. With all those girls surrounding me, I was really at loss over what I should do to win her over. I didn't even know how to reject them properly, because I didn't want to hurt them.
Evening drew to a close as practice was over. I headed back to the lockers as everyone did, too wear out to even speak of my day. It was just a boring waiting and listening to others' problems. I loved to help others, but why was no one trying to help me? It is really easy to make my day, just a small note of encouragement could pump me up, you know… I was always waiting for it, but it never came… Never did… I pulled my bag out of the cell and tore open the zips to retrieve my sweater.
A little post-it note stuck to the sweater as I fished it out of my bag. It was yellow and neon. It was round and I could immediately tell a smiley face was drawn on it. I flipped it around.
It was written in a neat girly handwriting. The drawing lines when they wrote letters were a must, even if it were to distant friends; they were always that prim and proper. Curious, I popped my head into my locker. I was greeted with a shocking surprise: The walls were already coated with a layer of post-its. I tore them off piece by piece and stuck them together, one on top of the other as I read them:
I like you!
Pick me for Prom!
There were many, some with familiar handwriting, but mostly new to my eyes. I kept tearing more post-it from the walls and soon, they simply repeated themselves, those typical lines that foreign faces which I've once helped would write about me. I gave up reading sometime through and simply tore off new ones to stick under the growing stack of paper, soon to be trash. I was truly relieved when I felt the last post-it stuck at the side of the locker. I tore it off the metal wall and tapped it right below, too lazy to even read it. It would probably read some good quality about me again. I was sick of it. Alright, it made my day, yes, but maybe I didn't want to see post-its anymore. Besides, the whole point of me ever thinking about post-its written for me wasn't just from a random Tom, Dick or Harry, it was from HER. I didn't need anyone else's.
I sighed as I slammed the door of my locker, swept my bag off the floor, slung it off a shoulder casually and left the practice room, not forgetting to dispose of the stack of waste paper in the recycle bin just outside of school.
Still I waited: Waited for the bus to come, waited for the lift, waited for my body to follow orders… and waited for the apple of my eye to see the good in me.
It seemed endless, yet I still could not let go and find another to love.
She isn't coming idiot, so why are you waiting? My conscious ever so often yelled at me, who simply didn't hear anything, for I was too deep in love, too deep in affection, too deep…
Ever since that day I noticed all the post-it, I realized that my locker seemed to attract them. No matter how often I cleared it, when I went back to retrieve things, it would be filled up with post-it again. Okay I am nice, fine! But stop trying to tempt the devilish side of me by having me clean up my locker so often!
Soon, I simply gave up cleaning the locker and I realized no new post-it would be pasted over, even though my study corner became the next area to collect post-it. I couldn't help but to grumble. What was wrong with people in the school? Wasting so much paper! Very soon, I'd have to counsel would be Mother Nature!
It was only until Prom night, on the 3rd of December, where it was compulsory for all final year students to clean up their rented things, dorms, tables, lockers and study corner, that I finally touched all the many fanciful post-it again. Since it'll be the last time I'll see all these, why not just take some time to read each of them? Savour all the appreciation, even though you may not know them.
Shrugging to myself, I removed them like I did when I first saw them, and indeed, they read the same old comments. All of them were complimenting, but not a single handwriting that looked like hers. Some were from female peers, some from close juniors, but just… Not any from her. I tore and I tore, this time, stacking them one on top of the other.
I looked into the locker to ensure there weren't any pieces left behind, as I tore what I presumed was the last piece. It was then, that I saw a star glowing at the far end of the locker. I extended my hand into the locker and retrieved a stack of 5 pieces of simple, square, light-yellow post-it.
Study together? – Jan 3
Can we hang out some day? –Feb 14
I love you. – Aug 23
Dance together? – Nov 11
It was Kaysie. I could tell from the way her words slanted forward so much that no one could have mimicked her handwriting. It was too difficult to forge. She spent all her life coming up with her special handwriting. It was beautifully Kaysie. I finally turned to the one with a battery operated star glued to it:
Waiting~– Dec 3
Momentarily dazed by the colours of the lights from the star, the word didn't register. When it did, I clutched it in my palm and mad dash for the Prom hall.
'Thank you for attending tonight's prom, may all your friends here today be with you for life!' The MC ended the night.
The dance had already ended, and she was already in the arms of another man.
Opening my palms to look at the note once more, the lights on the star faded out as the battery died.