It’s Done. It’s Over.

As I grabbed the door handle and pulled it to walk out, a sense of calm descended on me. That single step outside the door, and nothing what had happened the previous five minutes mattered. I forgot about how bad the viva went, or how silent I sat there, confused, anxious. All that mattered was that it was over.

Walking out of the chairman’s chamber never felt greater (except maybe when we got away with stuff). My body felt like it was about to explode with relief and happiness- the kind warriors probably felt after achieving their feat, after defeating their opponents in battle, after raising their flag high. I felt like Frodo Baggins after he destroyed the ring of power. I placed my wrist on my head, gesturing a sign of disbelief, although ecstatic. Exchanging those beaming smiles- the first in more than a month- with my classmates and doing the victory dance was in order.

If it were up to me, I would’ve squeezed the living souls out of everybody present- okay maybe not everybody, but certain people present there.

My wings which were anchored down by the weight and the enormous pressure of finals were released. I was free.

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At times I feel that I’ll never be able to open myself up entirely to anyone- without any of the curtains or the trap doors. Just my naked soul with all my fears and all my worries, all the dreams and all the expectations, the expression of how I feel exactly when and how.

And I don’t know if that is a good thing or bad.

Sometimes, there are these moments. Moments when you’re so tired of your own self, that you start to doubt the very fragment, the very purpose of your existence. Feeling like a burden on the people around you is never an easy thing to deal with.

And to be honest, I just want to crawl into a hole and die.