Note to self, part 2
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| I could have written about my hangnails or something, as the instructor never read our work. |
One of the last things I had on my list to write about this summer
was this pesky letter that's been haunting me since 5-6-1996. But, I
first had to read the letter, which I didn't want to do, as it felt like a can
of worms. But, I'm getting good at opening cans of worms.
The first thing that struck me was how poorly written the letter was,
how sloppy my handwriting was, and the fact that I included a blank page
(?). But, it was an honest letter from a no-BS kid who was really glad
to be done with the "hell" of high school. Little did I realize I would be
launched into another academic abyss very soon. In many ways, going to a community college (for a kid who got a 29 on his ACT) was like going back to the 8th grade.
I
met the woman who would take up more than 20 years of my life on
5-6-1997, exactly a year after I wrote this letter to myself. What
interests me most is what happened in that year to cause so much
disillusionment, so much loneliness, and so much desperation. There were
things I wrote that were in direct opposition to the person I was a
year later. My beliefs remained the same, but the tenor of the
conversation certainly changed. Whatever happened in that year, it
was big, life-changing, and demoralizing. Here I was, a strong young man
writing a letter to himself in the future, and in a year, that young
man had been erased and replaced with someone else.
Maybe
it was loneliness. Maybe it was heartbreak. Maybe it was seeing my life
for what it was. Maybe it was fear of the future. Maybe I just wanted
to be loved. Or maybe I needed a reason to exist that wasn't there when I
wrote the letter. Sometimes it's hard to be strong when it's just
yourself you're being strong for.
The answer lies in the dim, dark past of my first year of college. I don't know what happened, but something
changed in me. Maybe it was the realization, the terror, that I would be
spending my life alone. Rejection after rejection tainted my view of
myself. And, that's the year I started drinking. Not much, just some
beer. I hated the nights because they felt even lonelier. I stayed up
late, slept during the day sometimes. I was rudderless. Once, when a
telemarketer called, and she had such a nice voice, I ended up buying more
than $100 worth of magazines from her. It was just so nice to hear a
woman's kind voice.
I spent a lot of time on
Internet Relay Chat. I made friends there, some I still have in my life
today. That's where I met the woman who would become my wife. That
changed the course of everything. I decided I would continue my
education where she lived in Ohio.
What's
ironic about this is it feels nothing has changed. I'm
still living alone and/or on the edge of some great change. The
same demons threaten me. The same face, older and grayer, stares back at
me in the mirror. The same thoughts go through my head as they surely
did all those years ago. I'm alone again, though there is strength in me that
wasn't all those years ago. If I have to go through this again, and the
right way, then I will. It seems when you fail a test with God, He
just waits a bit and then retests you. Whatever I didn't learn the first
time, I'll just have to try again.
If
life is a book, then it feels strangely reaffirming to reread this old
chapter and see the same imprints on my life today. It feels odd that
I'm back at the same point, too. I should be getting used to that
feeling, but it's still unnerving.
Then there's the relief I feel. Reading the letter, facing my former self, is no longer a specter, no longer something I have to put off. I now have a kinship with that person I didn't expect. We are both embarking on a terrifying journey. I can learn from my failures, which is an advantage I didn't have 22 years ago.
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