Jagged little pill

When I failed to get into the degree course with the rest of my friends, many took it as a surprise (I know some thought it to be fully deserving).

"Hah, tak dapat? Apesal plak?" At times it was a source of pride, most times, a source of mortification. There's nothing like being reminded of your failure (at least) ten times a day and having to explain yourself, over the phone, online, in the face.

I must admit, I had my sights set on other nations as the venue of my next alma matter. As I watched my chances of getting into the skool get thinner, my resolve to 'fly' got stronger. But it is, nonetheless, a failure on my part, on not making the list.

I made the mistake of meeting them all on the registration day. Stupid. Everyone was inevitably busy filling in forms, choosing subjects, moving in, finding roomies. They tried to include me in all of it, I was grateful for that. But mean is mean. I felt left out all the same.

In the following weeks, they tried keeping me in the loop, as much as they can. Did they feel sorry for me? God, I hope not.

Gossips filled my inbox on a daily basis. It was almost like old times, except I wasn't there. In the beginning it was easy to imagine I was still part of things, I can still keep up despite the distance. After a while, I got tired, they got busy.

When Amy told me they were goin to the beach after exams were over, going bowling, etc., my first impulse was to run down there and join in the fun. I still want to.

But then I realized, I am not part of that anymore. I still want to be, they still try to make me, but reality doesn't agree. I guess that's the dilemma here. My dilemma. To be part of something. What? The answer to that, I can't figure out yet.

Sure, I am doing something here, a little bit of something. But it doesn't beat the comfort of companionship.

Maybe that's what's bothering me so much.

Loneliness.