I don't always like to think about high school. High school was kind of strange, and I've definitely hit my stride in college. But there were times back then when I really loved my school. Thats not something I ever thought I would say, since I socialized with exactly .001% of the student body.
Today I went back to my high school. I really haven't gone back very much, and every time I do it feels more and more foreign to me. It was cold for May, and there was rain coming down. "Its like we're living in a cloud," my other half said. Nevertheless, we stayed and watched a game of lacrosse and smiled because we loved it. As we approached the sidelines the faces that recognized us were few and far between. Next year they will all be gone.
We stole keys. We snuck into an office we used to hide in while we cut classes. We climbed on a desk and looked around at the yellowing articles on the walls. Our names are painted on the ceiling. The articles telling about our victories are old and no longer exciting.
While we grin to each other, we are thinking, are we old and no longer exciting?
We used to be the shining stars of this office, and now we are nothing but a memory. Nothing but stories that get told on long bus rides. We used to have fun here, we met each other here. But here is no longer a place for us.
I've been struggling lately with what my place is. When I used to run up and down the lacrosse field I felt like I knew where I belonged. I haven't had that feeling for a long time, possibly since high school.
As we rolled up the sweatpants we were going to take, purple the color I suspect our blood still flows, our old coach smiled at us.
"You still have our pictures on the walls," I noted as we walked by him.
"You two are never coming down," he answered.
Today I went back to my high school. I really haven't gone back very much, and every time I do it feels more and more foreign to me. It was cold for May, and there was rain coming down. "Its like we're living in a cloud," my other half said. Nevertheless, we stayed and watched a game of lacrosse and smiled because we loved it. As we approached the sidelines the faces that recognized us were few and far between. Next year they will all be gone.
We stole keys. We snuck into an office we used to hide in while we cut classes. We climbed on a desk and looked around at the yellowing articles on the walls. Our names are painted on the ceiling. The articles telling about our victories are old and no longer exciting.
While we grin to each other, we are thinking, are we old and no longer exciting?
We used to be the shining stars of this office, and now we are nothing but a memory. Nothing but stories that get told on long bus rides. We used to have fun here, we met each other here. But here is no longer a place for us.
I've been struggling lately with what my place is. When I used to run up and down the lacrosse field I felt like I knew where I belonged. I haven't had that feeling for a long time, possibly since high school.
As we rolled up the sweatpants we were going to take, purple the color I suspect our blood still flows, our old coach smiled at us.
"You still have our pictures on the walls," I noted as we walked by him.
"You two are never coming down," he answered.
1 comment:
Lindsay, this is good (said like Huth in the low rumble of a grunt.) I really really like.
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