Post College Afterglow

Nineteen, a hot day in August. My parents move me to Brooklyn in a hurry, but with enough downtime for my father to make annoying commentary. This makes me wonder if his soul purpose in life is to annoy me. My mother is sobbing and my father wants to get home. Unlike other parents, they are not planning on spending the weekend of my orientation with me. I am not aware of it at the time, but my parents expect me to return home in a couple months. Defeated and upset about the way I am treated in this harsh city. There is no reason to prolong this goodbye, when we will be reuniting in a couple of months. My hair is much blonder back then.

Twenty, a cold day in January. I'm in my second year at Pratt and just discovering all I can about myself. I am losing focus in computer graphics and feeling suffocated from having lived in such a small town my entire life. I have met a boy who is introducing me to a new world--sexually. It's all so thrilling and exciting. I wonder how much of it I can explore and how I never really discovered any of this before. I want to have sex with as many different people as I can and I want to try as many drugs that I can get my hands on. I have lived such a sheltered life up to this point and I have this urge. I feel I am so behind everyone else, I need to catch up as quickly as possible. My pants were much baggier in those days.

Twenty-one, a cool afternoon in September. I am a theater major at Brooklyn College. I have part-time job and make good money. I am a mild drug addict. I am a big time sex object. This is the life I wanted to achieve and I could do it all in balance. I was doing it all. The thoughts I had then, seemed so logical. Yet, when I rethink them, they all seem so insane. I went through homelessness, scabies, HIV scares, etc. I had to survive by laughing and realizing how insane it all was. My life was a joke and that was the beginning of the problem. I began to find it more funny than serious. I found a lover who allowed me to be wild, but gave me the support I wanted. My glasses were rather thick back then.

Twenty-Two, a warm day in February. I am becoming a functional stoner. Life is good in so many ways. I've seen the other side of the world and I am almost through with school. I am seeing someone who is less ambiguous than the last man who broke my heart for a little while. I am clean off from drugs. Things are in a solid and comfortable place. My hair was much shaggier and unkempt.

I am on my way to Come Back Little Sheba and I get a phone call. Time changes and I lose focus. The days pass and more information is gained. The certainty of life begins to decieve. The relationship ends. I have no time to reflect on any of the events that have happened in the past few months. I breakdown and lose motivation. I want to sink into nothing. I want to get through because I have to. I don't give up, but my body begins to go into auto-pilot. I cry and brood. I don't know of a day when I can tell I will ever fully trust life again.

Twenty-Three, a hot day in May. I am sitting here in my room. I finished my last final in a record of 30 minutes, I think I did well. All the answers just came to me. I am lost in thoughts of the last five years. The ups and downs. I cannot help it, it had to happen eventually. It's been five years and what is five years in a life that is supposed to last at least fifty? At least fifty, probably more.

How did I develop into this person? I know everyone changes. For better or for worse. It's a journey we all take. Do other people have this simple story? Five paragraphs (maybe six) that you can draw key points, but skip on all the other stuff. There's so much more that happened. Yet, I can't remember it all. I will hold the things worth remembering and I will forget the stuff I wish to forget.

Keep on moving along. Nothing to see here.