| I know ~ I haven't written in this thing forever. But it's close to the close of a semester, the close of a year, the close of my time taking classes (hopefully) and there's a lot to reflect on. In many ways, it is the end of many things, one of those being many relationships.
Coming into college, I did not anticipate making very many new friends, or even desire it. As many will often hear me say, I really am shy in nature, contrary to popular belief. My undergraduate experience, however, has proven to be extremely different than most in that it was very much like high school for me. I have been in the same classes with the same 16 some people for the past four years, and like it or not, I have gotten to know them extremely well. Many of them I thought to call friends.
As the year draws to a close, however, I am starting to learn how maybe the relationships I have with people aren't really what they seem. One remark made by a girl that I spent the majority of my freshmen and sophomore years with, a Rip Chord, caught me off guard. We were talking about another Rippie, and she was commenting on how annoying the girl was. "She's not that bad," I said. "Well, you weren't really, you know, friends with her," was her response. "You didn't go out with her and stuff."
In the midst of all my non-CFC relationships, I had forced myself to think and believe that friendships didn't have to be based on the common factor of going out. There had to be another way of diving beneath the shallowness of small talk and seeing each other in class daily, more than what takes place under the influence of alcohol. I thought I had achieved the more. But her remark, said so matter-of-factly, was meant to put me in my place. No, I was a not a good friend. No, I did not go out with them. No, I did not attend their Halloween and birthday and toga and no-reason-needed parties. No, I didn't meet up with them at the bars on weekends, watch Ben and Zach at Geovanti's every Thursday night. My name was never mentioned in their fun little anecdotes of when so-and-so got piss drunk at that place at this time and did this. They got angry with me when I was the only one that didn't attend the conducting barcrawl. I had not fulfilled any of their requirements. In their eyes, I was not what they were in mine.
I had seen glimpses of this idea before. Sophomore year, Rip Chords went to compete in Wisconsin. After the competition, everyone went to the after party. I don't drink, and I didn't then, so more than anything, I took care of people. I also met a lot of cool people and was talking to one guy in particular - not romantically or anything, but just getting to know him and talking about music and stuff. He offered to buy me a drink; I declined, turned my head, and when I turned it back around again, he was gone. I was no longer worth the time because I would not have a drink. But these friends, I thought, were different. When I turned my head back around, however, they too were gone. Are gone.
The end of our time together, and not much to show for it. My ideas of what I thought were relationships with them slip through my fingers like a dream I had many nights ago. It is the end, and as with every end, all I have left is the stark reality of what really is. They have each other; I, what if's.
My experience was a lot like high school, and yet, coming in, I wanted something a little more grown-up, something that pointed to the fact that I had matured, was in fact maturing, had in fact learned the value of friendship. I can hardly remember the names of many people I called "friends" in high school. Vague memories with fuzzy details are all I have left in my hands, and they too slip away, little by little, with each passing day. How I dread the idea that my time with these people will end up like that too; goo in my hands, incapable of leaving any sort of imprint because that's all it is. Goo.
I guess the question now is, was it worth it? Was the point made? Did they see the Christ, or did they just see a girl that was too good for them and their lowly, pagan antics? Did I even understand the point of it all?
Sometimes reflecting sucks. It makes you see things you wish you'd never have seen.
|
