They called you up. First name, middle name, last name. I didn't know your middle name and expected it to be something ridiculously Jewish that I could never spell, like Efrayim, or something, but it was only Evan.

I was playing in the band, to the left of the stage - where they were giving out diplomas. I watched you walk up. I'd been mentally preparing myself for this all week. Did I cry? Debatably, no. You shook hands with the principal, took your diploma, and walked further right off the stage. It was quite symbolic. You walked away, further from me now than ever before. Now you'll be out of my life for good.

I'll probably never see you again, dear Evan, but what do you care- you'll just go away to college in Wisconsin or wherever you're going, forget about this town, forget about your promises to visit, forget about this stupid school, and forget about me.

And I'll try to forget about you.


Madeline said...

I also was playing in the band as my dear "Gene" walked away. I know where he's going, though, and I know he will visit. I can't help but be jealous of him, though.

Cypress said...

aw... sadface. =(


Wow, you really read all that? Danggg. Props! =]

Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.

Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)