Posts tagged self reflection
Mistakes That Come After

When I was a sophomore in high school I finally acquired my first boyfriend. I had just transferred schools and he was cute, tall, and sweet. We ran in the same circle and I enjoyed spending time with him and his – our – friends. And they all supported us, even some of our teachers. It was fun and sweet, hugs, hand-holding, and chaste kisses (that honestly weren’t very good). However, after a month the spark we had initially faded. At least it did for me. I’ve never really been able to pinpoint why or how, but it did. So I broke up with him. In some ways, this was the best decision I could have made. In others… well, who knows how I could have done better, certainly not me.

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Fifteen Minutes (Revised 12/13/18)

I glance up at the clock perched just behind Ms. Bray's left shoulder. 11:35, fifteen minutes till class lets out. Posters of the human skeleton and muscular system take center stage on the wall to my left while the windows to my right are edged in diagrams of the reproductive system and STD warnings. My foot starts bouncing under the desk that’s too small for my mile-long legs. I sneak my phone out of the front pouch of my oversized Jackson High hoodie and peek at the screen as it lights up. 11:35 stares back at me from the digital screen before ticking to 11:36. Fourteen minutes. Fourteen minutes before I can plug my headphones in and shut out the world.

"Mr. Williams!"

“Wha?" l jerk up from my phone, fumbling to get it back into my pocket.

"I see that phone one more time and I'm confiscating it." Ms. Bray warns.

"No phone here ma'am," I say lifting my hands as if I were under arrest. A couple snickers leak from my fellow inmates and a grin tugs my lips up into what I'm sure looks like an arrogant smirk to our uptight health and science teacher.


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Fifteen Minutes

I glance up at the clock perched just behind Ms. Bray's left shoulder. 11:35, fifteen minutes till class lets out. Posters of the human skeleton and muscular system take center stage on the wall to my left while the windows to my right are edged in diagrams of the reproductive system and STD warnings. My foot starts bouncing under the desk that’s too small for my mile-long legs. I sneak my phone out of the front pouch of my oversized Jackson High hoodie and peek at the screen as it lights up. 11:35 stares back at me from the digital screen before ticking to 11:36. Fourteen minutes. Fourteen minutes before I can plug my headphones in and shut out the world.

"Mr. Williams!"

“Yes!" l jerk up from my phone, fumbling to get it back onto my packet.

"I see that phone one more to me and I'm confiscating it," Ms. Bray warns.

"No phone here ma'am," I say lifting my hands as if I were under arrest.

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Master

Some people call me master. Truth is, I’m still a student. I’m no guru, no leader, no expert. Except of course on the subject of I. Most of my life has been a journey filled with discoveries about I. And the only thing that truly makes me special is that I have payed attention to the lessons I have been taught about I.

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This is For Me (Not for You)

Yesterday, someone told me forgiveness is more for the forgiver than the forgiven. And that very evening I saw you again for the first time in six months. For a moment, when I first recognized you, I had the inexplicable urge to turn and run. My legs stumbled and my muscles tensed, ready to take off, with or without my full consent. And then my logic kicked in.

 

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