Day 12

Game Over

May 27 Thereís too much to tell. Graduation day is over. Recovery is completing. Iíve been ill for the past three days but I staved it off by force. It caught up to me. Iíve got to get this down. I thought of so much to say. Thereís too much to tell.

But Iíll try.

The first thing that popped into my head as we started to line up was a flashback. I was shot back, over a decade back, back to the first grade. It was the class play. I was the last monologue in our presentation of Frosty the Snowman. I knew my lines.

Why would this pop up? I donít know, why do things happen as they do in dreams? All I know is that as soon as that line started moving, my mind followed suit. I tried to look back, back over every year, and did so with astounding clarity. I moved in second grade, and met my best friend. Fourth grade I fell in love, and she moved away. Sixth grade I learned what the word faggot meant, and would hear it for three more years. Ah, now we get confused. Seventh and eighth grade are a blur. I can remember what they were but cannot separate them. Too much pain. Then, high school, ninth grade, was deliverance. Hey, Samia, Bobbie, John, you wanna know why I always looked lost? Every time somebody laughed Iíd turn around and wonder why he or she was laughing at me. But I learned in tenth grade that there was hope for me, and I should never assume the worst for everything. Oh dear, here it goes again. I could not separate tenth, eleventh, and twelfth grade nearly as well as I should have. But not because of pain, it was simply being overwhelmed by every emotion every named. No, I cannot simply sum that all up, unless youíre all willing to read a novel on my life. Go read the poems.

And then I was walking, stopped, walking, shake, walking, stop, smile, walk and sit. Stand up. And then itís over. Iím done.

ÖAnd itís party time.

Project Graduation? Iím so there. This has to be the first genuinely good thing that Grimsley has done since they let me attend. So much to do, and I did it all man. Iíll try to keep it chronological but I canít guarantee continuity.

I spent the first fifteen minutes at the blackjack table, won a little money, and then had my fortune read. But thatís for me. Only know that it was obvious, vague, and more or less just a wakeup call. But she did tell me I was going to be a leader, by winning peopleís hearts, not using force. When I heard that and looked at my casino winnings, I decided to spend the night giving it away, and did. I couldnít get anything in the auction anyway. Might as well spread happiness. Gave the last 500 to Karyn, a gift to My Valedictorian.

I got myself a massage, one of the first. I think I earned a chance to unwind. I felt revitalized. In fact the relaxation was probably the only reason I was able to take that Bungee Run thing like I did.

The Bungee Run. I think I did that thing three times, each with a different set of friends. Each time I got another bruise, burn, or twist. I was so tired/wired I didnít even care. Interesting. Thatís how I spent my year. Get hurt, stand up, and then just go back for more.

In a wonderful moment of timelessness I told the truth.

I played one video game that night. Dance Dance Revolution, mostly with Chris. The fun of learning something new. I have to say I wasnít half-bad at it. Foosball too, I played foosball.

Plenty more happened. I won a remote control car, I got my yearbook signed a few times, and I jumped around and snapped the camera. I saw my year and years for what they were: growth. Thatís why itís so hard to just separate years. Life doesnít happen in events, and man made up ďyearsĒ himself. Everything works in a cycle, or some sort of process. Choice and chance donít fight each other, they work together, and everything leads to something else. If one thing changes, everything is offset. So despite my regrets, I canít say that I would have it any other way. As long as I keep making the right choices when chance allows me to make them, I shall have nothing to regret.

Do what you can but first and foremost keep your senses about you. The ending isnít important. Weíre all going to die. What matters is what you can perceive while youíre alive. And Iím still alive.