Spring 2009

Fall certainly fell away from me. I watched it melt in the sun from the stands of the stadium at the Sun Bowl, smiling (at least, trying...no, maybe I was really crying) as they took the field yet another time, eight instead of nine, twenty-six. Not twenty-seven. It's hard to believe how much closer I became to those twenty-six, having been forced into a state of separation whose suffocating spell I hope to break in the coming weeks. My mind wavers a lot when it comes to the individuals, at least some of them, but I could not have survived without this group of guys. Through drumming and drinking and stupid we have passed and shall continue to, and what I wanted all season long was the chance to dance, but what I needed for years was the chance to say thanks because even though I never got my chance, I got through hell, not unscathed in any way but a far better human being. I looked into his eyes later that night, after the formal awards and the drunken drum major speeches, and I could see that this hurt him too, and that somehow made everything a little easier to take. A few drops of my soul still soil that carpet. A few drops of my soul I give in offering. I promise I will not take this for granted. I promise I will try. And that alone, is finally, enough.
This semester, I saw several sleepless nights. Thankfully, I was not alone for all of them.
My professors annoyed the shit out of me, with the exception of one. Syntax was a disappointment, Synaptic was a joke, and The Spirit that Physics Broke may very well have been the story of my life had this life not been so well fortified--had this spirit not already survived these years of experience. Yes, my grade is pathetic and nowhere near indicative of who I am. But maybe the other grades aren't either.
I saw New York City and got lost in Central Park, which normally would have terrified me, but I think the thing I needed to happen was exactly that which did. I saw Oklahoma City and nearly lost my mind.
Both of those trips taught me that I'm no longer on the outside. I'm inside the circle now and can't imagine finding my way back to believing those things. Ignorance knows no boundaries it seems, and it's fascinating what people take as common sense these days. "None of us are guys. Why would you want to go in there? You're not a guy." So matter-of-fact. She was almost laughing. Is it really that simple for some? That's sad.
"So, as a bisexual female..."
"Well..."
"So, as a bisexual male..."
"Um, you're getting closer, but..."
It was the first time (but not the last) where I felt that my internal dictionary was different from everyone else's. I somehow picked up the revised edition and found myself staring back at those old pages, which I could see quite clearly through his eyes. He really didn't know. "Well, why aren't you just a lesbian then?" He just didn't get it. He's the kind of guy who never will. I'm fine with never being able to grasp something. I'm not okay with not making an effort.
And then there was the basketball game that was supposed to be mine--my chance to make up for an entire marching season of silence. And then I found out who else was going. And I knew that chance was gone too. But I made the best of things. I had fun and screamed relentlessly. We lost. But what a ride.
Pride Week happened, and sleep became a dream itself.
Tension. My house. We were all pissed, and no one had reason to be. I felt like I had enough going on and didn't want to deal with it. I still don't.
The last week of classes came upon us, and the sun graced us with its fleeting presence in the prologue of summer; we devoured the pages (and the fried rice), salivating over the prospect of turning the page to find Chapter 1 of the Summer of 2009. But that book slammed shut as finals week consumed our souls and forced our faces into books without sunshine. I lived in the library, toiling over my final portfolio for the one class that kept me sane all semester long; calculating and memorizing and pondering for Physics, which was probably a waste of my time anyway considering how the grades were finalized; cramming more Physics and Brain Stuff (I mean, Synaptic Transmission) into my brain, while cramming Cheetos, Twizzlers, and eventually, cheap chocolate Easter bunny into my face.
"Chicken Soup for the Neuroscientific Soul"
"Oh Christ, it'd probably be toxic."
I remember not even going home that night. We went to her place, and I just couldn't stand being awake. My alarm went off, but she told me to stay. I stayed for as long as I could. It was 7 30 when I decided that I would save Joseph from suffering alone. It was only right that we should die together. Enter chocolate bunny and exit sanity. "If it's not pretty when I walk out of that God damn exam, I'm going turn around, walk right back through those doors, and punch Dr. Wood in the face." Well, we raped that exam. And it was pretty. So it was off to the Pete to renew my locker for the countless hours I new I'd be spending in the gym for the summer, then off to Schenley Plaza. We just lay there for hours. I took my shirt off and didn't care that I wasn't wearing a bathing suit top. Eyes closed, we talked about everything and nothing in one of those conversations whose details are irrelevant yet with which you are so glad to have been associated.
My parents finally called. They were sitting right across the street. We drove up to see my brother, and I made it back to the Valley around 8 pm Saturday night. I'm still here but not for long.