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September rain...
October rain...
November rain...
The rain today reminds me of the song 'November Rain', sung by Guns 'n Roses.
During middle school, I abhorred the wide genre of music called rock.
At high school, I learned to love it.
The songs that I so hated yesterday have become the emergency exit of my life, always there when I need to escape.
Hearing loud music booming in my ears just blows all the stress away.
November Rain is not that loud a song, but it just somehow captures your heart and sucks you into the music.
Thinking of rock music almost naturally makes me thinks of a person who was, and still is very dear to me.
She is an eighth wave senior, but no longer at this school anymore.
Actually, not even in this country.
She is the person who got me really into rock.
When I began my life at this school, I had difficulty in having an intimate relationship with the seniors.
Other students who were affable got along with them very quickly, but it was hard for me to approach, let alone even talk to them.
But there was one senior that I could really open my heart to.
I soon got to adore and respect her very much.
Out of my foolish blindness I also tried to be like her whenever I could.
In those times, my extra-curricular life revolved around her.
I tried to join every club and group activity that she was in.
TTL, the KMLA photography club, the Minjok Herald design crew, and Samulnori are just a few of the examples.
Actually I have succeeded in joining one or two, even though there were more failures.
Now, after she has left I really regret it.
Everything around me seems to remind me of her, and it is very painful sometimes.
I can still remember her smiles and kind words she gave me whenever I asked for help on something.
In that way she began to gradually increase her space in my heart.
Then came the bombshell.
She had to leave for Canada in one and a half weeks.
I was totally bewildered.
This senior whom I had followed, and loved so much!
This senior whom I had given away all my heart to!
This senior was leaving...
The last 10 days or so I could not even feel the parting that was coming up ahead.
It was on the last day that the farewell to come came to me with a crash.
That day was the day which we returned home, and there was a popsong contest in the afternoon.
She was participating with a bunch of other 8th Wave seniors.
As I saw their performance I was really choked up and tears clouded my eyes.
After the contest had ended, there was a moment to talk to her.
I could hardly say anything except to praise her great performance.
Even on the bus going home I could not say anything.
I just sat and watched her, and soaked her up, getting ready for the years in which I would not be able to see her.
When we were getting off the bus, the tears came.
I cried and cried and was even told off by my mom for crying without any reason,
because I was crying too hard to be able to explain anything.
A week later, she left.
After the times following the goodbye, after the hard times when I had to try so hard to stop myself from crying,
it was better than I thought it would be.
The internet acted as an intermediary between the two continents.
I was able to talk with her on MSN and even see pictures of her sometimes.
I still miss her, but I have learned to live with it.
It's just that these rainy days make me sentimental.
Looking back, I can say with certain that I really loved her.
I look forward to when she comes for a visit to Korea and we can meet.
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I am sad that hardly anyone seems to remember her anymore,
and I have expressed that in the poem that goes with this essay.
Started on the same day as the poem, Sep 11th, and finished on Oct 4th.
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