(no subject)
I try to avoid being overly sentimental about leaving, because I'm not exactly doing anything unique, and I know that I'll be returning occasionally. But the feeling that pervaded the first 18 years of my life has dissipated. No longer do we live in the Indian Summer of high school, where the naive idea pervades that these friends - these feelings - will last forever. Sure, the faint glimmer of maturity always says that won't be the case but we never listened to that right?
Well, it's here. Even though I still claim residence in Texas, every time I return, I expect the same litany of questions "How is it up there? What's your major? (*eye roll*)..." from every person, as we simply relate our new lives because we shared a life together in the past. The disconnect probably won't repair, and no memories will be created anew. Rather, we'll slowly feel obligated to convey our lives to each other, maybe be there for the wedding, sitting in oblivion around a bunch of people we don't know "I was his friend in high school," back in another life we should probably say. My parents hardly speak to their best friends in high school anymore, and when they do, the encounters are tinged with the realization that they've gone too far apart. That's the difference. A public school is not a place people want to go; you become friends by the force of geography, seeking out the people who share a sliver of similarity, hoping in your youthful hope that this is perfection when really these situations are interchangeable at schools all across the country. However, the time will never be replicated, and I'm sitting on the precipice of never having these thoughts, feelings, emotions running through me ever again with these people that defined the most defining period of my life.
To Ryan, the first best friend I ever had, to everyone in elementary school that I can and can't remember, those that lived in my neighborhood, especially those that wasted away with drugs, I'll remember playing tackle football into the dark back when grades didn't matter and coke was consumed in aluminum cans.
To the ones who mattered, in high school, Don, Sean, Emmanuel, Oliver, Raj, Jon W., Melissa, Monica, and all the others I met. For those in cross-country, Mando, Andy, Carlos, Johann, Ian, Luis, Mark, Valerie, Emily, Alicia, Laurie, Sherri (and Coach K, fuck you). In newspaper, the ones who maintained my sanity and gave me advice, Mohammed and Kevin especially, Rachel, Jon P., Jarrett, Jenny, Ian, Nalleli and Matt too, just for making me laugh my freshman year. The teachers who gave learning its meaning, I would probably not be going where I am if it weren't for you; Col. Johnston, Mrs. Schweers, Ms. Chandler, Ms. Chambers, Ms. Keith, Ms. Bittner, Mr. Davern, Sra. Barrett, I'm sorry for not living up to my potential. Elizabeth, you're a great person, and any hurt that I caused was not intended. Good luck in Canada.
To my dog.
And finally, to my parents. I'm still not sure if I love you, but thank you for caring anyway. I'll try to make you proud.
It's done. Goodbye to all.
Well, it's here. Even though I still claim residence in Texas, every time I return, I expect the same litany of questions "How is it up there? What's your major? (*eye roll*)..." from every person, as we simply relate our new lives because we shared a life together in the past. The disconnect probably won't repair, and no memories will be created anew. Rather, we'll slowly feel obligated to convey our lives to each other, maybe be there for the wedding, sitting in oblivion around a bunch of people we don't know "I was his friend in high school," back in another life we should probably say. My parents hardly speak to their best friends in high school anymore, and when they do, the encounters are tinged with the realization that they've gone too far apart. That's the difference. A public school is not a place people want to go; you become friends by the force of geography, seeking out the people who share a sliver of similarity, hoping in your youthful hope that this is perfection when really these situations are interchangeable at schools all across the country. However, the time will never be replicated, and I'm sitting on the precipice of never having these thoughts, feelings, emotions running through me ever again with these people that defined the most defining period of my life.
To Ryan, the first best friend I ever had, to everyone in elementary school that I can and can't remember, those that lived in my neighborhood, especially those that wasted away with drugs, I'll remember playing tackle football into the dark back when grades didn't matter and coke was consumed in aluminum cans.
To the ones who mattered, in high school, Don, Sean, Emmanuel, Oliver, Raj, Jon W., Melissa, Monica, and all the others I met. For those in cross-country, Mando, Andy, Carlos, Johann, Ian, Luis, Mark, Valerie, Emily, Alicia, Laurie, Sherri (and Coach K, fuck you). In newspaper, the ones who maintained my sanity and gave me advice, Mohammed and Kevin especially, Rachel, Jon P., Jarrett, Jenny, Ian, Nalleli and Matt too, just for making me laugh my freshman year. The teachers who gave learning its meaning, I would probably not be going where I am if it weren't for you; Col. Johnston, Mrs. Schweers, Ms. Chandler, Ms. Chambers, Ms. Keith, Ms. Bittner, Mr. Davern, Sra. Barrett, I'm sorry for not living up to my potential. Elizabeth, you're a great person, and any hurt that I caused was not intended. Good luck in Canada.
To my dog.
And finally, to my parents. I'm still not sure if I love you, but thank you for caring anyway. I'll try to make you proud.
It's done. Goodbye to all.