We You were so cool. Incredibly cool to be precise and I knew that. More importantly - you knew I knew that, and you liked me regardless. I wasn’t cool, and everyone but you seemed to inform me of that fact daily. That amazes me still today. Kids can be so unforgiving. They can be so cruel and awful to one another. It simply boggles my mind how just a few years before they were precious and innocent. It’s as if all kids undergo some awful ritualistic or torturous act that robbed them of their innocence while injecting them, each and every one, with ability to be evil. You were evil, but not to me.
Even at 14 you had it all mapped out. Who you’d kiss, why you’d go to college in the New England, what articles of clothing worked best in which seasons, why you’d never come home. All of this was totally unreal yet somehow I comprehended it and followed along. Sometimes I’d even chime in and give thoughtful advice. Its not that you needed it, or even really wanted it, but rather that I wanted to be heard or at least feel like I was part of something bigger. We’d spend hours together in the basement of your parents home. It was our retreat for sure and it was more than enough fodder for us to act out, plot, and scheme the steps it would take for you to accomplish everything you’d always dreamed of, and by default, everything I’d ever dreamt of.
You went to the best private school this Atlanta suburb could provide. Roswell Prep Academy was by far the best school in the area, and far superior than the public institutions that I attended. I attended them, but never really connected. I’d always imagined that my parents would outgrow this silly notion that I’d become well rounded by what I experienced at school. That’s like saying way makes you more of a man than boot camp. NO mom and dad - war just makes you more fucked it. War just makes it harder to sleep. War just reminds you of the life you wish you had. Public education was my war and my high school became the pivotal battlefield.
Gifted classes had their moments. The students I was surrounded with were exemplary in many ways - but they all consistently lacked the sophistication and grace of your classmates at RPA. The kids at RPA had the puzzle put together - they knew the score of the game before it was over - they win, everyone else loses. I, regardless of my accolades was destined to be a loser.
I needed you to push me away. I needed to create a true stand alone life of my own. There were plenty of opportunities, even in my freshman year, to strike out and become a person in my own right. We both knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. At least not until it became obvious that you were going to live your life and I should live mine, and to accomplish everything you’d imagined possible you’d need to be a streamlined, precise instrument. A deadly, heartless machine. Pasty white boys from the suburbs does not the surgically precise killing machine make.
The time would come for your to shed me - along with many other childlike habits and the occasional friend, I knew that it would come, but not for now. I understood all too well the fact that for me - this role in your life was to be short lived - looking back though I think I just ignored it. I was such a good guy. So into living for other people - into helping you - if only you’d seen me then for what I am today? Maybe you did and that’s why you’ve let me back into your life. Maybe you didn’t and that’s why this whole situation has you taken aback.
I guess things are better this way - otherwise I would’ve held you back - and in doing so held myself back from the great things that were to come into both our lives.
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