There’s no “it all started…” because nobody can
understand what happens amongst themselves, between others. They don’t want to.
We make ourselves blind. I don’t really know where my part starts, because that
at least does have some sort of definition. I guess people moved too fast. I
wasn’t friends with Tyler that long; people don’t seem to realize that. It was
juvenile, her me and Sarah at first, and AIM conversations. I wasn't friends with Billy that long either. I suppose as it goes, going into high school I had Sarah, and shortly after that Cassie and Nick, but its amazing how differently those relationships grew and departed.
Most
of my closer friends and I escaped from school. We talked in school, passed
notes between classes, and we made plans. But we lived after school. During school, we were amazing, but afterwards... we would break free after school, on the weekends, explore, go nuts, and
go crazy. We would bake cookies, or sit in a dark room and draw by candlelight, or melt things, for some reason. If someone had a plan that the other (s)
liked, it would be met with enthusiasm. If someone’s plan was obviously flawed
but they couldn’t quite see it, we made every effort to cure their blindness.
Sometimes we fought..but we went places. As high school progressed, it wasn’t
like that anymore. The kids were spontaneous, yes, but it seemed forced, more
like a hierarchy and less like a joint effort. I couldn’t stand it, so I hung
out with Melanie, who is one of the people who changed my life the most, and
for the better, in high school. I got tired of asking people questions and
being met dull responses, without commitment or emotion.
Jackie
and I, or Tyler and I, and even Sarah and I would make plans, but they’d never
happen. I’d ask when they were free, but they never knew. I asked if they even
though that it would be a good idea to do whatever, be it a picnic, a hike,
some strange teenage scandal, and it was usually “Sure”, or “I guess”. It got
exhausting. I got angry and stopped bothering. Eventually it was easier just to run apart from the team, both figuratively and literally, circling
the upper friends where nobody else wanted to go, sometimes with Jackie but
usually with Melanie. If the team was playing dodgeball, we would play for five
minutes, then look at each other and it was automatic. As the years passed we never bothered, and we
would go to Gavin or Schroeder – “Do you mind if we ran on our own for twenty
minutes instead?” They always seemed disappointed, and we understood, but the
team had fun, and so did we without them. We would run in the rain, cruising
past the flooded tennis courts and the soggy baseball diamond where the other
teams had abandoned them for home in the weather. We would talk, or we wouldn’t,
but there was always unspoken agreement. If we had moments of uncertainty, they
were fleeting, or I’ve forgotten them. I remember hugging after the last Cross Country race, and the tears, and the realization that everything was so worth it.
I
remember running alone, going at my own pace and forgetting how long I’d been
running and not knowing where to go. I remember being free to go this way or
that, up Windmill or around it. I remember getting my foot caught in a
boardwalk and twisting my ankle, and getting so pissed. I remember running back with the other long
distance runners through Pine Grove, the icy ground an exciting opportunity for
slipping and sliding.
I remember when we ran to Pine Grove to do mile repeats. Gavin was pissed. The girls were running together, it was raining, it was cold, it was windy out there. We kept trying, we kept trying. Our times sucked. There was no way for to improve. Even Melanie admitted it. The boys were disappointed, we were frustrated. Afterwards we all ran up Wamogo Hill, soaked and sour. Changed into warm clothes in the locker room, all the girls still stuck together.
That’s
all gone now, of course. A lot of those kids still hang out. Alex, TJ, Teddy,
Alex, Mitchell and Jen, but only Jen was really ever my friend, and yesterday
actually, we realized that we’re not really anymore, and haven’t been for a
long time. That happens, however. Kids who didn’t run joined that group, but I
don’t know them anymore. I suppose that they were never the kids I really
wanted to keep in touch with. Most of the ones I was worried about have stuck
by my side. I eat with Lauren sometimes, and it’s nice to see a familiar face,
especially of someone who was my friend in the past. I talk to Sarah regularly,
even though we have nothing in common anymore. I talk to Nikki, but we realize
how much time is dragging, and often just make ourselves feel worse.
This
isn’t a novel, so I’m not going to write a story. But I guess I’ll progress.
This was supposed to be a novel, but now it’s just something between a rant and
a reflection. Like everything else I write, it’ll drift off and fade away, as
my patience dwindles, and I realize that my emotions will always get the best
of me…but at least I am writing for me. At least I believe in myself. And I’m
done, for the most part, with those people I knew who couldn’t fight for
themselves.
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