The Space named College

Image by Pensiero via FlickrAs I sit here waiting for my instructor to reach some point of stability- bless her heart- I find myself missing high school.
If you knew me, you’d know me saying this means that flying pigs have frozen hell.
I hated high school. I hated being trapped in a fascist society and being stuck in detention by the Gestapo’s hand. I dreaded getting up in the morning, and I ran to my car when the last bell rang faster than any track runner.
But now I miss my friends. Now I miss the laughs, and I miss the tears. Now I miss seeing my girlfriend and showing her off, hand-in-hand down the halls.
I even miss the rules.
The rules, I thought, were holding me back. I thought of myself as above school law. That I was too smart and clever to be punished the same as an illiterate football jock.
Now I know the rules held a floor under me and roof above. It held its own stability, and now I’m having to float through empty space.
Without anyone holding my hand.