When there are few hands left to hold onto

Photo courtesy by MdV81



Twenty seven years ago, I was carefree and full of life ahead. I thought that high school is still the best part of anybody’s life. Who would not enjoy it, you’ll hit college in a few months, get all the praises that alas after four years of school assignments, CAT trainings, endless stories with friends and classmates — you finally wear the white gown and off you go.

But that is only part of the story. When leaving high school, you also leave some of the most closest, trusted and constant companions you will ever have. Like being left standing alone in the dance floor when the music stops.

When there are few hands left to hold onto. This is my story, our story.