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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