Watching motorcycle diaries makes
me think of all the things me and my best friend never did.
We never went on that post-high school road trip to nowhere.
We never even graduated high school together.
I got kicked out of school around February of senior year
and ended up finishing at another school and graduating before everyone else.
(with a 3.5 GPA)
...but that meant that i didn't get to share in graduations
festivities with all my friends. I did attend, but I was watching from the
stands and as of now i remember more about my sister’s graduation than I do of
my classmate’s graduation. If it weren’t for the pictures I have I’m sure that
would be gone from my mind as well.
I left for boot camp immediately after graduation.
I didn’t get a final summer.
That means that I didn’t get to go screw around with all my
friends before we decided what colleges we were going to go to, or if we were
even going to go.
By the time my friends were starting their first year of
college, I was across the world learning different things.
I learned that long distance relationships don’t last when
you’re 18.
I learned that only when you’re helpless do those things you
worry about not having control over actually happen.
I learned to depend on myself and no one else. (I still do
this)
I learned that I was smart enough to get by, but not smart
enough to avoid life.
I learned that when you push your hand through a wooden
locker one time with success, maybe you shouldn’t try again.
I learned to live on my own, even though I always had room
mates.
I spent two years away. I spent two years away because I had
broken up with my high school sweetheart, and I didn’t feel the need to come
home any time soon anymore. So I decided to extend my overseas service for
another year.
That decision led me to my final meeting with my cousin in
life.
I learned to appreciate the time we have with people and
that sometimes a cab ride and giving away of “things” can be a substitute for “goodbye”.
I learned that if you believe in yourself, others will too.
(I flew home to California with a set of fake orders that someone had printed
up for me at the administration office and a little bit of guilt trip applied
to the airport personnel.)I wasn’t supposed to land in California for another
few weeks, but I was done with Okinawa and no one could stop me. Not even my
healing broken hand.
I joined the military when I was 17 and lost all of my
friends.
We still exist in this world where proximity is not an
excuse to see each other and every few years someone dies or gets married and
we all get together again to explain why we haven’t called. Sometimes I’ll catch
a movie like “The Motorcycle Diaries” and I’ll get all sentimental and write something
like this.
I had a friend one time that was as scared as I was. And when
we were together we were the adolescent angst that all those punk songs we
loved only screamed about. Now he lives right down the road and I haven’t seen
him in forever. Sometimes I find him, but he never wants to stay in the light
anymore. So I’m left holding a torch with nothing to burn for.
