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Farewell Ride
16 years ago
General
"Some may say this might be your last farewell ride."
I suppose this marks the end of an entire chapter in my life once again. Two years ago, I wouldn't have ever even dreamed of everything that has happened since. Wednesday, I very quietly, somberly celebrated what I spent one and a half years looking forward to -- but not in a way I ever saw it. I went to see Corey off, but I also went for closure; I dedicated my life to something and I had to see the end to. Even just a few months ago, I never thought I could be made to feel a stranger -- someone you see more at family reunions, the ones you never remember their age, or where they go to school, or what they do for a living, when they graduated -- rather than a centerpiece of someone's closest history. That, I think, marks the end; that I am forgotten, and I should not, myself forget, but understand that I have something better.
I'm still hurt -- months later, I'm still hurt. A piece of me knows I deserve it, however I regret nothing I did in retaliation to anyone. I'm not sorry, and I'd gladly do it all over again in the same way, as arrogant as that probably sounds.
I leave home in less than a week. I leave this town behind and anything left in it. I didn't outgrow the town, or became "better" than the people here -- rather, I became alien; leaving home for a year has the tendency to change everyone's reaction to you -- even the closest people to you ("It's not like you're going to war"). I neither belong, nor am wanted here. I can count on my hand the people who still give half a damn where the hell I'm going -- I used to not be able to, but one of them died, to put it bluntly, the rest are leaving with me.
Not to sound bitter, I'm far from bitter at this point. Not to sound superior, I still know my pitifully small place in this world. Not to sound jealous, because I know this'll repeat itself for someone else -- who I am now certain deserves all the hell I experienced. Not to suggest I'm copping out, I am just following through with old plans, minus a handful of people, plus one. Not to sound pessimistic, I still have hope -- but this time more on the cautious side, still marred by experience.
I'm glad I started over at zero, because now we can start back over at square one, as two. Everything in life's a year off, but I suppose that keeps us moving up from zero.
With Love,
Justin
I suppose this marks the end of an entire chapter in my life once again. Two years ago, I wouldn't have ever even dreamed of everything that has happened since. Wednesday, I very quietly, somberly celebrated what I spent one and a half years looking forward to -- but not in a way I ever saw it. I went to see Corey off, but I also went for closure; I dedicated my life to something and I had to see the end to. Even just a few months ago, I never thought I could be made to feel a stranger -- someone you see more at family reunions, the ones you never remember their age, or where they go to school, or what they do for a living, when they graduated -- rather than a centerpiece of someone's closest history. That, I think, marks the end; that I am forgotten, and I should not, myself forget, but understand that I have something better.
I'm still hurt -- months later, I'm still hurt. A piece of me knows I deserve it, however I regret nothing I did in retaliation to anyone. I'm not sorry, and I'd gladly do it all over again in the same way, as arrogant as that probably sounds.
I leave home in less than a week. I leave this town behind and anything left in it. I didn't outgrow the town, or became "better" than the people here -- rather, I became alien; leaving home for a year has the tendency to change everyone's reaction to you -- even the closest people to you ("It's not like you're going to war"). I neither belong, nor am wanted here. I can count on my hand the people who still give half a damn where the hell I'm going -- I used to not be able to, but one of them died, to put it bluntly, the rest are leaving with me.
Not to sound bitter, I'm far from bitter at this point. Not to sound superior, I still know my pitifully small place in this world. Not to sound jealous, because I know this'll repeat itself for someone else -- who I am now certain deserves all the hell I experienced. Not to suggest I'm copping out, I am just following through with old plans, minus a handful of people, plus one. Not to sound pessimistic, I still have hope -- but this time more on the cautious side, still marred by experience.
I'm glad I started over at zero, because now we can start back over at square one, as two. Everything in life's a year off, but I suppose that keeps us moving up from zero.
With Love,
Justin
don't forget to scream Mayonnaise