My Middle School

Let me put it this way.
I love every single thing about it.

Although I might not like the part when we had Monday ceremony with the humid Borneo's weather.
I don't like the fact that I used to have a super slight silly terrible crush to a teacher.
I don't like the fact that my first love got crushed in there.
Or some other things I don't necessarily have to remember.

But I love being in there.
I love going inside the white class, looking at those familiar faces whom I've known so well and they won't greet me out of formality or superiority, they greeted me for family and tenderness.

The white small table that made me feels like in a Japanese school, perfected with the bag hanger.
Teachers came and laughed for the last few days before our graduation.
The morning routine of picking up fallen leaves and stumping to the trash bin so that all the leaves will fit.

Or simply looking out at the window when it's raining. Seeing the water poured down so hardly to the tall, calming trees, soothing everyone who needs to study so bad and turning their sleeping mode on.

Or simply walk passing your crush's class.
Or tricked your English teacher for April Mop, which I still couldn't figure out where did I get the nerve to do that.

Representing my small school in a small town--barely known--to the land of Copenhagen, Denmark, which is in Europe. Getting Jetlag and slept from 8am to 1pm then craving for No Shing noodles (or whatsoever).

Simply the rain, I guess.
Or the afternoon weather every time I went home late.

So yes. I probably love my middle school the best.