Narrated by Camila Sáez.
We were at our graduation, just mentioning it makes me nervous. Only a few years ago, it seemed so distant, and while I knew that someday it would come, I didn't expect it to arrive so soon, especially with the grades I achieved. My friends and I were devastated, realizing that we might never see each other again. It was the most likely outcome; we'd all take different paths, attend different universities, and with the time it would take to adjust, maintaining the same level of contact we have now would be truly challenging.
Naturally, those who were closer made arrangements to study together, or at least in the same city. That seemed like a good idea, but I knew exactly where I wanted to pursue my specialization. Besides, I knew I had to push myself to secure the scholarship I needed to complete all my studies.
If I could do everything I wanted, I would. But I have to put in effort to achieve what I want in life, to help my parents and try to give back all they've given me with so much effort. My parents were sad, but I hoped they were also proud of what I had achieved. The responsibility of lifting my family up weighed heavily on me, and often it was overwhelming. I felt like everyone saw me as the person who could help them. My parents are ill and work as much as they can day in and day out. I've had to go with them, and it's not easy or pleasant, especially during the summer when the sun beats down on my forehead and body.
On the other hand, I could always count on the help of Adrian, my best friend. But especially today, he seemed more unusual than usual. I mean, for the past few months, he's been acting differently around me. Some days he's more distant, and others he's overly sweet, and I had no idea why.
He also wanted to vie for the same scholarship as me, but our fields of study would be entirely different. We would be at the same institution, but we wouldn't have much time together.
We were at the assembly, the typical event where we would all end up crying and saying our goodbyes, each of us going our separate ways. Some would reminisce about this stage, while others would simply focus on forgetting it and discovering better things ahead.
"Camila Sáez, please come to the front" mentioned the teacher in charge of organizing the entire ceremony that would mark the end of this beautiful stage I had experienced, a journey that I had shared with my classmates for these past years, and she had seen us grow.
I followed the path that had been previously laid out and once I was on the stage, joining my classmates who had been called up earlier, including Adrian, who was looking at me in a strange way. I tried to understand what he was thinking, but it was impossible. I couldn't read people's minds, so I just tried not to be bothered by his gaze.
My phone started vibrating. It was probably my boyfriend, Julian, who should be working at this hour. Although it might sound strange, he shouldn't be talking to me much. Over the past few months, our relationship had changed. We hardly talked about anything beyond saying good morning or good night. Our connection had faded, and it wasn't surprising. We had only met once, and no one except my friends and Adrian knew about him. I suppose this relationship, if you could call it that, would probably end soon.
I looked up and saw my parents. Though not very expressive, their eyes were filled with tears. I knew them; they were happy about my achievements and for consistently being at the top. I loved my parents, and I was sure they loved me too, in their own way most of the time.
The ceremony concluded after about an hour, and after the group photo where my friends and I appeared, it was time for our parents to join us on stage. I waited for my turn, stepped down, and rejoined my parents. We were then called to the stage again. I tried to check my phone, but I couldn't. There were supervisors on either side of me, and I didn't want my last memories here to be associated with a scolding. It would have been a terrible show of disrespect during such an important event.