Every dollar's got a deed
Every Tueasday evening when I get home from Netty I always have this little bit of guilt floating in me. Some sort of conscience sitting in me from seeing my had-been maths teacher. We never look each other in the eye and I feel guilty for it. I want to explain that what I did and did not do was in no sense out of disrespect for him. I liked him as a teacher. He actually made me *understand* maths to some degree and now he hates me. I have pseudo-practiced speeches in my head to explain what happened at Radford and my absences. Not as an excuse, but as a reason. I have no excuse and I can't try to pass off as if I do. Then I feel like finding my history teachers to explain myself to them too. Those three were the ones I felt really bad about back in college. I loved history and my teachers were fantastic and even though I hated maths, my teacher was beyond what I expected. I had the greatest respect for them yet my lack of attendance was a great big slap in the face from me and though I never meant to show any disrespect... I did. It's been the biggest regret I have about my last year at college. The feeling that I let them down is probably one guilt I'll have to face forever. I doubt anything could reconcile that. There are times I wish that things were different back then, that everything that happened never occured. That I would then be able to handle everything and show the people that looked out for me the respect they deserved. Then on the other hand, if those events never happened, I wouldn't be where I am today. I'm the happiest I've been since... Well since I can remember. Save for those great days as a kid when the worst thing that happened to you was a toy breaking. I'm content with where I am at the moment and the people in my life. It was a bit of a price to pay but to me, it was worth it.