I have just one thing to say right off the bat: I am SO glad to be back now!
After having to guide my taxi over the phone for almost an hour so that it could pick me up, getting stuck in London overnight when British Airways swapped my flight around while I was flying from Manchester, and losing my toothpaste to a security woman who didn’t seem to understand the concept of manners, getting back home seemed heavenly. Now, while moving from Middle-of-Nowhere Ellesmere back to East Jesus Marion doesn’t seem like that much of an improvement, other than coming back into my own culture. However, I have one indisputable advantage here: I have a car. Using the miraculous gift of driving, which the English don’t seem to understand as they careen down dirt roads while scattering startled sheep in their wake, I started making up for lost time once I returned from my brief New Student Orientation at UMass Amherst. I have not seen a single new film while I was in England, so the first thing I did when I went to catch up with some of my best mates back here was to go to the cinema. Normally I don’t binge on cinema trips, since they’re so expensive, but I’m like an addict finding a whole bag of cocaine in the form of movies. Besides, it’s a great excuse to meet with the guys. We all work summer jobs, so getting together can be a trial. We laugh and joke like nothing other than my accent has changed. I kept telling them that I don’t sound British and that you could ask any actual Brit if they heard me. Once the jokes are over though, we have to wait until the weekend or whenever Mike’s or Hunter’s weird schedules allow us to meet and Ryan is still at his school on a work study. Hunter at least can bring people to his summer camp as visitors and I helped him there for a day. When we sat down for lunch across from one of Hunter’s coworkers, we were still chatting. I looked at the guy across from us and he was giving me a strange look. Hunter then introduced him as Hugh, an actual English person. We kept talking, but he was still scrutinizing me. What’d I do? I wondered. Did I offend him somehow?
“Where are you from?” he finally asked.
“Um, here. I live in town,” I replied.
“What?” He seemed perplexed and Hunter explained my last year attending an English boarding school. “Ah! Got it! I was just really confused because you have a British accent and some of the things you say sound upper class, but others sound lower class and you’ve got a bit of Scouse and Irish in there too.”
I was baffled. Okay, maybe I do sound a bit like a limey. Not a bad thing. I explained how I had lived near Chester (low class, almost accent) for most of the year, but at a boarding college with lots of rich kids (upper class), and one of the guys I hung out with frequently was a self-professed Irish Liverpudlian (hence the Irish and Scouse). I must say that I was pretty pleased that I’d thrown him for a loop. For one I’m glad that some of the accent stuck, but, better yet, I proved Sam, one of my roommates, wrong when he said that I was a lost cause and wouldn’t learn the accent. Ha! So there Sam!
Anyhow, my own job tends to be rather solitary and most of the time I’m left alone with my thoughts and my music as I pull weeds or excavate boulders the size of lower Manhattan. Normally I enjoy the solitude, the chance to think, or the opportunity to forget about thinking and absorb myself in landscaping. However, I’ve been sick as a dog since I got back from England and it got worse just before going back to work! I’ve been swaddled in sweatshirts, blankets, and covered in a eighty-pound lap dog on the couch ever since. That means no making money for university and occupying each day with work, no riding my bike to the beach, and, worst of all, no going to Ken-Po at night! The one thing that I need to go back to as soon as possible to relieve my stress and to prepare for the second degree black belt test in October is barred from me because of some stupid virus! It seems that Murphy’s law, that what can go wrong will go wrong, applies on a small scale too. The lack of company didn’t help either. I began to miss Ellesmere again and, like last summer, Tabor too.
The one benefit to everyone being trapped together in the same school all of the time is that friends get to see each other often and goof off together. I couldn’t care less about Ellesmere itself. As a matter of fact I’ve pretty well determined that I didn’t like the school itself or how it was run, but the community of students plus some teachers was great. It makes me wonder what I missed not boarding at Tabor. I longed to be able to just walk down the hall and have a chat in someone’s room or steal a Krispy Kreme doughnut. Living like that for a year made coming back to my house in the woods seem rather lonely. Okay, so maybe coming home wasn’t so heavenly as I had first thought. Having everything around me like the schedule, the gadgets, and the rules be intuitive to me is great, but now that I am often without companions, it’s a bit dull. Now I often find myself thinking about my new student orientation last week. Aside from getting lucky with who I was rooming with that night, there were dozens of lectures to attend, plenty of random and fun things to do or see, and, better yet, I hit it off with a couple of great girls that I spent my time with whenever we could meet. The English accent seemed to be a big hit as I turned heads when I spoke and had to explain my gap year more times than I could count. I didn’t think that getting friendly with everyone would be quite so easy, but most of these people followed the New England social standard: They will not speak to you at first, but once you put in the effort and say “Hi,” they can be as friendly as anyone you’ve ever met. Flitting from one group to another and becoming a friendly acquaintance with bunches of people is my specialty, but fortune smiled on me when I found a couple of people that I chat with even since we went home for the summer. All it took was introducing myself to one of them and mentioning my interest in musical theatre for the other to appear.
After leaving Tabor and Ellesmere, I had a gap in my life. After Tabor, I kept myself just as busy as before, I still went to Ken-Po whenever possible, and I still read too much, but I knew that I wouldn’t be seeing my mates each night or the next day. The same is happening now with my farewell to Ellesmere and I find myself again with the gap in my life. Looking at the orientation that has just passed though, I now know that I will soon have a life like that again, even more vibrant and fulfilling than before. As I’m writing this, I’m realizing that the laws of nature apply to the laws of the heart. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, whenever something goes missing from your life, something else will appear to fill the void. In my case, I just needed to go out and find it. Until school and new friends fill the breach, I will settle with the usual summer occupations and count the days until I move into university and feel my heart mend anew.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Time To Say Goodbye
I have had a surprising number of people ask why I stopped blogging in the last few months. To be honest, I got sick of this blog. After so many weeks of writing it, I realized just how episodic it was. I know that it entertained many of you still, but a few of the readers were getting tired of the journal style and I was getting mind-numbingly bored. I was just describing events without any real purpose. I had no themes or messages to convey most of the time. Now, after rereading my most popular posts, receiving dozens of requests (and demands) to restart, and a revelation over the benefits of social networking, I have decided to reboot this… thing. Then again, maybe I really wanted to restart this blog if anything for this entry as a final “goodbye” to all of my friends in Ellesmere.
Last night Ellesmere College celebrated its Sixth Form Ball; a great event spanning almost seven hours of drinking, dining, dodgems (aka bumper cars), drinking, fireworks, drinking, reminiscing, drinking again, and crying at the end for many of us who were leaving for good and for some who didn’t want to see us go. I walked through the tent set up on the school terraces and stepped out onto the grass in the open sun, wishing that I’d worn my burgundy smoking jacket-esque blazer, and had one thought: “I am going to hate this.” All around me were people dressed in their best, bedecked with pressed suits or sensual dresses with sparkling jewelry. Many were holding glasses of champagne and people had coalesced into small, chatting groups. Scanning the crowd of parents and students, most of whom had known each other for years, I felt out of place. I always feel out of my depth at these sorts of gatherings. Even at my last school’s graduation, I found myself wandering between pockets of pupils. Now the same thing was happening at Ellesmere and there I was again uncomfortable even among people I knew. Trying to blend in, I grabbed some champagne, despite the flask of vodka in my pocket, and began weaving through these clusters like a lost fish in a coral reef. Even once I found the people that I hung out with normally, I wanted to socialize with others, as this would be my last chance to see anyone. At the same time, these were the friends that I was comfortable with, people with whom I had spent most of the year. I didn’t want to leave them in the lurch. Equally as tantalizing as deterring were the gorgeous girls scattered all about that I wanted to speak to while convincing myself that they would want nothing to do with me. The next hour flew by in a blur of short conversations with dozens of people and I repeatedly found myself telling others where their misplaced friends were. Well, I guess that the wandering did some good.
The night was movie themed and each dining table was referred to via the name of a movie. Wouldn’t you know it, I ended up at the ‘80s “Batman” table. Yes, we sang the theme song plenty. I eventually stepped away for a moment and strayed into the school hall where lines of pictures on strings hung down from the ceiling. This was Memory Lane and each picture had at least one “Leaver” in it who would not return next year. This is where the emotions began to hit and when I noticed that someone had gone through my photos on Facebook. I never submitted that one of me and Tyler standing like gargoyles on those pedestals in the hallway! It occurred to me that I have more pictures of my friends at Ellesmere from this one year than I do of my friends over the course of four years at Tabor. I began to feel a little guilty as I’d started to forget some of the people and fun times at my old school, but had kept this blog as a sort of journal of this year and thus would not forget Ellesmere so quickly. After appreciating someone’s wonderful job of Facebook-stalking the students, I ran into one of the girls that I had earlier resolved to chat with. “Oh, hey. Happy birthday.” Exit stage left in a (fake) casual haste. I knew then that this was going to be a repeat of Tabor where I never could bring myself to open up to women. In that regard, all of my hopes for Ball came crashing down and all of my expectations were fulfilled. I guess I can’t be disappointed with that, right? Right?
Screw it! I need to vent some frustration! I thought as I grabbed some friends and made a B-line for the dodgems at the bottom of the terraces. Thank God that the posh stuff was over with and I could finally cut loose! Three rides, much laughter, and several cases of whiplash later, I climbed out of the arena to find that someone had nabbed the ounce of beer that I had left beside the arena. Meh. I hadn’t payed for it anyhow. That had been my third drink, now several hours into the celebrations, and I still hadn’t touched the vodka. I must say that this is peculiar for me. Hell, I was still more or less sober! What did it matter though? I was thoroughly enjoying myself by that point. Plus, my (drunk) friend Ethan approached me right then and said that he wanted to “introduce me to the wonders of a Tia Maria” so I got another free drink anyhow, even if it did taste like whiskey and coffee (bleh). I shared it with Lucy, a Russian girl that I had met on Monday, while she, her boyfriend, and I watched the fireworks go off (yes, the school had fireworks for us and a flaming sign saying “Good Luck 2014”). Lucy then overheard a friend say that they would miss me next year.
“Wait, what?” she said, astonished. “You’re not coming back next year? Why?” I explained. “No! You can’t leave! You’re too nice to leave! I don’t want you to go! We don’t want you to go!” I don’t know who “We” meant, even if her boyfriend was nodding, and I’m guessing that she’d had a fair amount to drink. Still, I was kind of shocked. My usual friends from the year below had been saying stuff along the same lines, but to hear it from a new friend, almost a stranger, and a cute girl no less was strange and… wonderful. Drunk or not, I didn’t realize that I had made such an impression on her. (I’m still impressed that her boyfriend was friendly with me at all after I had head-butted him that Tuesday in London. In my defense, we were in a crowd and he had started breathing down my neck and brushing his lips against my skin, so the moment that I knew it was a male, I flung my head back. I also realized right then that said student wasn’t in my field of vision and it was probably him behind me messing around. I pulled it soon enough to not give him a black eye.) The exchange cheered me up and, with my tendency to get hyper when I drink, I hit the dance floor. It didn’t matter that I was dancing with other guys for about ten minutes. It was still crazy and fun. Besides, these were drama guys that I’d goofed around with while working on “Romeo and Juliet.” How could we be embarrassed with each other? I eventually danced with a beautiful girl I didn’t know from another school and offered to buy her a drink, which she accepted (hopes went up) before I essentially became her chaperone to find the mutual friends that she had come with (hopes took a swan dive). Her drink and mine were the only ones I paid for that night, come to think of it, and I later found three quid on the dance floor, so that made up for half of the cost. Deciding that that girl was a lost cause, I jumped into the dodgems again, pseudo road-raged at my friends and new acquaintances, and then had a lightsaber duel with my mate James Cottam using some apps on our iPhones. I’m sorry to you more sensible people out there, but that needed to happen. It was then back to the dance floor where more of my female failures piled onto my fatigue and I became plain morose until I started being an idiot again with some other guys. Horrific dancing cures all emotional ailments!
Then the music stopped. The DJ said that we were all to gather in the Big School assembly hall for “Something about Jerusalem.” I looked at my watch. It was half past one in the morning. Oh, I thought, a little numb. This is it then. We sing the anthem and we never see each other again. Shuffling down the hall, once again totally sober, I thought, This is it. We all say “goodbye” after this. Well, it’s only been a year, so I guess I won’t really be too moved. I ended up walking with another beautiful girl who I had promised to buy a drink earlier, but never had as she always held one in her hand. We chatted and joked and we went our separate ways: she into the audience of adults and lower sixth students and I onto the stage of upper sixth form leavers. Standing front and center with the usual suspects such as James Slater, Emily Palmer, and Emily Moore, I saw some of the others begin to tear up. Then I began to feel a tightness in my chest that I could not explain at first. We sang out the school’s anthem hymn with all our hearts. I’ve always liked “Jerusalem” ever since I first heard it my first week of school in chapel. It has a sadness and majesty to it that struck us whenever we sang it together and it was simple enough that all could join in. Last night, upon that stage as the last notes of the music faded away and balloons toppled into the crowd, I turned around and found most of the people behind me crying or hugging or laughing or everything at once. When I found myself forcing back tears from my eyes, I realized just how much I loved many of these students. I felt again just as I had when I had left Tabor, when I had to leave people I had known for four years. I felt the regrets of mistakes I’d made and opportunities I had missed pour out and worsen the turmoil already within me. Over it all I kept thinking how much I wanted to stay with these people.
Saying last goodbyes to my friends, I heard how “You’ve only been here a year, but I feel like you really belong with us and you’re a really good friend.” I still could not believe that I was so near to tears after knowing everyone for only a year. Slater found me later, much more free with his emotions than me, and managed to say through the crying and embraces how much he’d miss me. He said how much he’d even miss my weird outbursts in history class with Wood, among other things! What really got me was when he said this: “You’re a really great guy! You’re one of the nicest, smartest people I know and you’re gonna go really far in life. Just remember to take care of yourself, no matter what anyone says. Just take care of yourself. You’ll go far. Just don’t be so weird about life.” I do not really know what he meant by the “weird about life” part. I should ask him as, to be frank, I could use as many tips as I can get. I’d like to believe that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. Maybe I’m wrong, but I would like to believe it. Between my own choking, I told him that he’s one of the coolest guys that I know. While waiting for the cab, my friends Ethan and Michael from the year below waited with me. That might have been the hardest part of the night with so many other students passing by wanting to embrace me and say “goodbye” and Ethan and Michael asking again and again for me to stay.
No matter where I go, I never seem to feel comfortable, like I don’t fit in, but last night made me feel at home. I have never felt so wanted. On the way back to Peter Nelhans’s house, I reflected upon the night and had a revelation. I have built bonds with my Ellesmere friends in one year as strong as those with my four-year Tabor friends because I opened myself up. Even if I did not tell more than one or two of you about the darker parts of me that even I cringe away from, and maybe it helped that I didn’t, I went out of my way trying to be a sociable, friendly guy. Just that changed so many things. You guys invited me to parties when that has never happened to me before. You invited me to stay at your homes which all but two of my Tabor friends have done. I know now that something so simple as bringing someone into your home cements friendship better than seeing that person in school every day can ever do. Funny, isn’t it, how I have to learn these things that most of you have known for years by instinct? I tried so hard this year to change from who I was. I worked every day to be friendly and open with people, to laugh and smile even when I didn’t want to, to leave the darker part of me behind, so that I could fit in. These past many weeks, though, I had thought that because I had failed to get a girlfriend that the effort was pointless, but now I realize that I had lost sight of what was even more important. I had made many real friends and I would not trade them for a single girl any day.
This year has really been something spectacular, despite the pitfalls and letdowns, and the students are what made it so. You guys have made this one of the best years of my life so far. To those of you back in Massachusetts: I'm coming home.
Oh, and Annabelle? I’m counting on that random, potentially nonsense message that you promised would come somewhere down the line!
Slater, if you’re reading this, know that your charm and personality alone will probably take you very far yourself. Thanks, I expect you to come to the US some time in your third year of uni and crash with me like you said!
If I’m back in England soon, Cottam, we’ll head to the crown and I’ll try not to flip any women onto the ground this time!
I’ll miss you Declan and, as much as I hate to admit it, I’ll probably even miss you reminding me about Neji.
Ethan, I know that you wanted that vodka last night, but what I said was honest: Not giving you any more to drink was a gift to you.
Best of luck with the house plays, Michael. Chances are it will be a brilliant repeat of your “Romeo and Juliet” performance. Keep up the flamboyancy!
I owe you and your family quite a debt, Lucas Wiehofsky, after letting me stay with you and, worse, falling ill at the end. If you are ever in Massachusetts, look me up! My family and I would love to show you around, if not host you!
Pete: The same applies to you and your family. I hope that your ankle didn’t give you too much trouble at army camp.
I should really thank you, Emily Palmer, for taking an interest in my silly obsession with fantasy and world building. The encouragement helps. I know that you’ll take med school by storm!
Billy, hit me up whenever you’re back in state so that we can hang. Remember Grassroots next year!
I hope that the dancing lessons stick for you Angelika because, knowing me, I’ll forget them if I don’t find a new partner soon!
Okay, I’ve spent enough time writing little shout-outs! I might send some others messages as final good wishes later, but you’ve all had enough of this list I’m sure. Here's a song that I tend to think of at partings, for obvious reasons. Plus, the video's a good show. Best of luck to everyone!
"Time To Say Goodbye" - Dubai Fountains
Last night Ellesmere College celebrated its Sixth Form Ball; a great event spanning almost seven hours of drinking, dining, dodgems (aka bumper cars), drinking, fireworks, drinking, reminiscing, drinking again, and crying at the end for many of us who were leaving for good and for some who didn’t want to see us go. I walked through the tent set up on the school terraces and stepped out onto the grass in the open sun, wishing that I’d worn my burgundy smoking jacket-esque blazer, and had one thought: “I am going to hate this.” All around me were people dressed in their best, bedecked with pressed suits or sensual dresses with sparkling jewelry. Many were holding glasses of champagne and people had coalesced into small, chatting groups. Scanning the crowd of parents and students, most of whom had known each other for years, I felt out of place. I always feel out of my depth at these sorts of gatherings. Even at my last school’s graduation, I found myself wandering between pockets of pupils. Now the same thing was happening at Ellesmere and there I was again uncomfortable even among people I knew. Trying to blend in, I grabbed some champagne, despite the flask of vodka in my pocket, and began weaving through these clusters like a lost fish in a coral reef. Even once I found the people that I hung out with normally, I wanted to socialize with others, as this would be my last chance to see anyone. At the same time, these were the friends that I was comfortable with, people with whom I had spent most of the year. I didn’t want to leave them in the lurch. Equally as tantalizing as deterring were the gorgeous girls scattered all about that I wanted to speak to while convincing myself that they would want nothing to do with me. The next hour flew by in a blur of short conversations with dozens of people and I repeatedly found myself telling others where their misplaced friends were. Well, I guess that the wandering did some good.
The night was movie themed and each dining table was referred to via the name of a movie. Wouldn’t you know it, I ended up at the ‘80s “Batman” table. Yes, we sang the theme song plenty. I eventually stepped away for a moment and strayed into the school hall where lines of pictures on strings hung down from the ceiling. This was Memory Lane and each picture had at least one “Leaver” in it who would not return next year. This is where the emotions began to hit and when I noticed that someone had gone through my photos on Facebook. I never submitted that one of me and Tyler standing like gargoyles on those pedestals in the hallway! It occurred to me that I have more pictures of my friends at Ellesmere from this one year than I do of my friends over the course of four years at Tabor. I began to feel a little guilty as I’d started to forget some of the people and fun times at my old school, but had kept this blog as a sort of journal of this year and thus would not forget Ellesmere so quickly. After appreciating someone’s wonderful job of Facebook-stalking the students, I ran into one of the girls that I had earlier resolved to chat with. “Oh, hey. Happy birthday.” Exit stage left in a (fake) casual haste. I knew then that this was going to be a repeat of Tabor where I never could bring myself to open up to women. In that regard, all of my hopes for Ball came crashing down and all of my expectations were fulfilled. I guess I can’t be disappointed with that, right? Right?
Screw it! I need to vent some frustration! I thought as I grabbed some friends and made a B-line for the dodgems at the bottom of the terraces. Thank God that the posh stuff was over with and I could finally cut loose! Three rides, much laughter, and several cases of whiplash later, I climbed out of the arena to find that someone had nabbed the ounce of beer that I had left beside the arena. Meh. I hadn’t payed for it anyhow. That had been my third drink, now several hours into the celebrations, and I still hadn’t touched the vodka. I must say that this is peculiar for me. Hell, I was still more or less sober! What did it matter though? I was thoroughly enjoying myself by that point. Plus, my (drunk) friend Ethan approached me right then and said that he wanted to “introduce me to the wonders of a Tia Maria” so I got another free drink anyhow, even if it did taste like whiskey and coffee (bleh). I shared it with Lucy, a Russian girl that I had met on Monday, while she, her boyfriend, and I watched the fireworks go off (yes, the school had fireworks for us and a flaming sign saying “Good Luck 2014”). Lucy then overheard a friend say that they would miss me next year.
“Wait, what?” she said, astonished. “You’re not coming back next year? Why?” I explained. “No! You can’t leave! You’re too nice to leave! I don’t want you to go! We don’t want you to go!” I don’t know who “We” meant, even if her boyfriend was nodding, and I’m guessing that she’d had a fair amount to drink. Still, I was kind of shocked. My usual friends from the year below had been saying stuff along the same lines, but to hear it from a new friend, almost a stranger, and a cute girl no less was strange and… wonderful. Drunk or not, I didn’t realize that I had made such an impression on her. (I’m still impressed that her boyfriend was friendly with me at all after I had head-butted him that Tuesday in London. In my defense, we were in a crowd and he had started breathing down my neck and brushing his lips against my skin, so the moment that I knew it was a male, I flung my head back. I also realized right then that said student wasn’t in my field of vision and it was probably him behind me messing around. I pulled it soon enough to not give him a black eye.) The exchange cheered me up and, with my tendency to get hyper when I drink, I hit the dance floor. It didn’t matter that I was dancing with other guys for about ten minutes. It was still crazy and fun. Besides, these were drama guys that I’d goofed around with while working on “Romeo and Juliet.” How could we be embarrassed with each other? I eventually danced with a beautiful girl I didn’t know from another school and offered to buy her a drink, which she accepted (hopes went up) before I essentially became her chaperone to find the mutual friends that she had come with (hopes took a swan dive). Her drink and mine were the only ones I paid for that night, come to think of it, and I later found three quid on the dance floor, so that made up for half of the cost. Deciding that that girl was a lost cause, I jumped into the dodgems again, pseudo road-raged at my friends and new acquaintances, and then had a lightsaber duel with my mate James Cottam using some apps on our iPhones. I’m sorry to you more sensible people out there, but that needed to happen. It was then back to the dance floor where more of my female failures piled onto my fatigue and I became plain morose until I started being an idiot again with some other guys. Horrific dancing cures all emotional ailments!
Then the music stopped. The DJ said that we were all to gather in the Big School assembly hall for “Something about Jerusalem.” I looked at my watch. It was half past one in the morning. Oh, I thought, a little numb. This is it then. We sing the anthem and we never see each other again. Shuffling down the hall, once again totally sober, I thought, This is it. We all say “goodbye” after this. Well, it’s only been a year, so I guess I won’t really be too moved. I ended up walking with another beautiful girl who I had promised to buy a drink earlier, but never had as she always held one in her hand. We chatted and joked and we went our separate ways: she into the audience of adults and lower sixth students and I onto the stage of upper sixth form leavers. Standing front and center with the usual suspects such as James Slater, Emily Palmer, and Emily Moore, I saw some of the others begin to tear up. Then I began to feel a tightness in my chest that I could not explain at first. We sang out the school’s anthem hymn with all our hearts. I’ve always liked “Jerusalem” ever since I first heard it my first week of school in chapel. It has a sadness and majesty to it that struck us whenever we sang it together and it was simple enough that all could join in. Last night, upon that stage as the last notes of the music faded away and balloons toppled into the crowd, I turned around and found most of the people behind me crying or hugging or laughing or everything at once. When I found myself forcing back tears from my eyes, I realized just how much I loved many of these students. I felt again just as I had when I had left Tabor, when I had to leave people I had known for four years. I felt the regrets of mistakes I’d made and opportunities I had missed pour out and worsen the turmoil already within me. Over it all I kept thinking how much I wanted to stay with these people.
Saying last goodbyes to my friends, I heard how “You’ve only been here a year, but I feel like you really belong with us and you’re a really good friend.” I still could not believe that I was so near to tears after knowing everyone for only a year. Slater found me later, much more free with his emotions than me, and managed to say through the crying and embraces how much he’d miss me. He said how much he’d even miss my weird outbursts in history class with Wood, among other things! What really got me was when he said this: “You’re a really great guy! You’re one of the nicest, smartest people I know and you’re gonna go really far in life. Just remember to take care of yourself, no matter what anyone says. Just take care of yourself. You’ll go far. Just don’t be so weird about life.” I do not really know what he meant by the “weird about life” part. I should ask him as, to be frank, I could use as many tips as I can get. I’d like to believe that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. Maybe I’m wrong, but I would like to believe it. Between my own choking, I told him that he’s one of the coolest guys that I know. While waiting for the cab, my friends Ethan and Michael from the year below waited with me. That might have been the hardest part of the night with so many other students passing by wanting to embrace me and say “goodbye” and Ethan and Michael asking again and again for me to stay.
No matter where I go, I never seem to feel comfortable, like I don’t fit in, but last night made me feel at home. I have never felt so wanted. On the way back to Peter Nelhans’s house, I reflected upon the night and had a revelation. I have built bonds with my Ellesmere friends in one year as strong as those with my four-year Tabor friends because I opened myself up. Even if I did not tell more than one or two of you about the darker parts of me that even I cringe away from, and maybe it helped that I didn’t, I went out of my way trying to be a sociable, friendly guy. Just that changed so many things. You guys invited me to parties when that has never happened to me before. You invited me to stay at your homes which all but two of my Tabor friends have done. I know now that something so simple as bringing someone into your home cements friendship better than seeing that person in school every day can ever do. Funny, isn’t it, how I have to learn these things that most of you have known for years by instinct? I tried so hard this year to change from who I was. I worked every day to be friendly and open with people, to laugh and smile even when I didn’t want to, to leave the darker part of me behind, so that I could fit in. These past many weeks, though, I had thought that because I had failed to get a girlfriend that the effort was pointless, but now I realize that I had lost sight of what was even more important. I had made many real friends and I would not trade them for a single girl any day.
This year has really been something spectacular, despite the pitfalls and letdowns, and the students are what made it so. You guys have made this one of the best years of my life so far. To those of you back in Massachusetts: I'm coming home.
Oh, and Annabelle? I’m counting on that random, potentially nonsense message that you promised would come somewhere down the line!
Slater, if you’re reading this, know that your charm and personality alone will probably take you very far yourself. Thanks, I expect you to come to the US some time in your third year of uni and crash with me like you said!
If I’m back in England soon, Cottam, we’ll head to the crown and I’ll try not to flip any women onto the ground this time!
I’ll miss you Declan and, as much as I hate to admit it, I’ll probably even miss you reminding me about Neji.
Ethan, I know that you wanted that vodka last night, but what I said was honest: Not giving you any more to drink was a gift to you.
Best of luck with the house plays, Michael. Chances are it will be a brilliant repeat of your “Romeo and Juliet” performance. Keep up the flamboyancy!
I owe you and your family quite a debt, Lucas Wiehofsky, after letting me stay with you and, worse, falling ill at the end. If you are ever in Massachusetts, look me up! My family and I would love to show you around, if not host you!
Pete: The same applies to you and your family. I hope that your ankle didn’t give you too much trouble at army camp.
I should really thank you, Emily Palmer, for taking an interest in my silly obsession with fantasy and world building. The encouragement helps. I know that you’ll take med school by storm!
Billy, hit me up whenever you’re back in state so that we can hang. Remember Grassroots next year!
I hope that the dancing lessons stick for you Angelika because, knowing me, I’ll forget them if I don’t find a new partner soon!
Okay, I’ve spent enough time writing little shout-outs! I might send some others messages as final good wishes later, but you’ve all had enough of this list I’m sure. Here's a song that I tend to think of at partings, for obvious reasons. Plus, the video's a good show. Best of luck to everyone!
"Time To Say Goodbye" - Dubai Fountains
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