This Semester's 2 Hours

The other day I was in homeroom with my fellow seniors and we all sat around the room, strung over desks, bookshelves, and anything else that could hold our 115lb bodies. Our assignment was to listen and vote for two senior speeches. We listened to Alison's endings, and Maeve's PE requirement, Elspeth's love for teachers, Hope's fear of the school, and let us not forget Eliza's comparison with weeds, but one speech stuck out: Emily Mitnick's speech on service. Automatically, I thought of all the hours of service I never did because I was too "busy." All those kids I never read to or those packages of food that remain unpacked, all because of my lack of wanting to help. After voting, I went to MS Drama, drove home, did my homework, talked to my friends; nothing too special. Yeah, so I stood over some vents that night, but all in all, it was fine.
The next day I was burdened with worry and regret. Why? There is nothing wrong with you, it's everyone else who have the problems. And yet, I stand in the middle of court playing my favorite game for 4 people, alone. The score is 10 to 19 and we're winning but the other 3 people are on the side icing their sprains and pulls. And I would love it if they would just join in. Try to ignore their pains. But obviously this could lead to breaks or even worse. Or maybe they have chronic pain where they try to ignore the handicap most of the time, but sometimes they can't. Either way, there I am in the center of the court with the ball and a gloom about my body.
Obviously, if you know me, you know that I am a person who is passionate, and caring and someone who would give anything for her friends. But you know when people say they do service to "see the results." I feel like my life recently has been a service requirement. Ultimately, it's been fun. I have touched people's lives, and attempted to make a difference. But with this service project, I don't see any results. No one rewards me for how well I balance my career with Players and my studies. Instead Student of the Week goes to the girl who persisted with one measly math problem and stayed an extra five minutes after class.
There are gonna be times when you do stuff and you're gonna hope that you're doing the right thing. There are times when you're never gonna know if you really matter. But for once I would like to be recognized for what I do. Whether it be something I did for a friend at 2 in the morning or the MS. Drama program. I'm not asking for a plack, or a national holiday. I'm just asking for a "Thanks Lina! You do do a lot, don't you?" or maybe a "Wow Lina that is so awesome that you do all this."
But then the opposite side comes rearing it's head. Isn't the point of being a friend or doing a service project to do it because you love it and you don't need the reward. I feel selfish by asking for the thank you. I feel that it should be given. But at the same time I look to those who are rewarded and I feel that I do so much more than them.
So here I am with no problems, or a least none to the size of those sprains and pulls. And I am living with a jump in my step and a musical stuck in my head. But there’s everyone else, not moving at all. I want to belt "Move on," but I know that that is not what they need to hear. They need someone to listen and I was the one they confided in, and I'm honored that they picked me; but as time moves on and I'm always a few strides in front of them, I can't help but notice how ironic my life has been. I have been surround by poeple who are stationary while I'm moving at a lightning speed.
Moving on is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand you're living life and loving as much of it as you can but on the other you're torn by leaving everyone else behind. So I sit here at my computer, silently laughing at the irony of it all. Cause no mater how many times you move on from your problems there are always gonna be ends, PE requirements, teachers, fears, weeds, and service.