I really didn't date a lot in high school. At times I wanted to. But that's a whole journal full of stories and feelings. I remember one crush in particular. He was shorter than I was, which wasn't a difficult task given my daunting height at an early age, he had long curly hair, and he was from France. I was enthralled. I had gone to French immersion schools until high school, and so while I was in tenth grade, my homeroom was and OAC, or grade thirteen French class (we used to have grade thirteen in my province when I was in high school). This put my locker right beside this boy, who I hoped would think I too was in grade thirteen. I was also well beyond my class in my French speaking ability and was often matched up with The Boy from France to work together in class. To make a long crush story short, I was sure he was going to ask me out any time. I waited for notes to be slipped in my locker, waited for him to utter romantic French whisperings during class, waited for him to ask for my phone number. After a while, I grew tired of waiting and anxious to see him smile at me more often, and so I confidently asked him out myself. He made a small joke which I tried to understand, and he walked away leaving me standing there stunned and confused. He was a low-talker, and I couldn't be sure I had heard him right, and if I had... what had it meant? So I asked again. This time he told me he had a girlfriend. I felt jaded. Suddenly out of nowhere was this girl, and he was with her constantly. They ate lunch together, she was at his locker with him... how had I never noticed her before? It was a memorable rejection. There was no, "it's not you, it's me" but more like "it can't be you, I already chose sombody else." And, in my mind, I felt he was choosing someone who was better than me (because she had him) and so in being rejected I was somehow less than I had been before; worse off, not as hopeful or confident, and still without a boyfriend.
Yesterday I got a letter in the mail. For the first time in my post-secondary education I didn't get a scholarship. At first I was shocked. I wrote a captivating essay, I had two of the most amazing and brilliant people write me incredible letters of recommendation, and I felt that I really deserved at least one of the five scholarships I had applied for. And yet here was this letter, informing me that candidates had been chosen and I wasn't one of them. After the shock wave blew over, I felt sad and dissapointed. A little bit of my hope and confidence shaken, and more than mediocre. Humbled really. Little E was with me when I read the letter and seeing my reaction asked what it was about. I read him the letter and explained it to him and he patted my shoulder and told me I could try again next year and get it (the letter encouraged trying again as a returning student). Maybe I will. For now, I feel a little like a tenth grader trying to get an older boy to notice me, giving it my all, and then being rejected.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
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3 comments:
That really stinks. I'm sure you are really disappointed. I hate rejection. Had they met you in person, they would not have hesitated!
Unbelievable that you didn't get it. I love your writing! Maybe there is something else just around the corner to brighten things up. I'm with little E though, try try again.
Maybe its academia: those arcane rules that are unbendable.
Dr. Man
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