Thursday 12 December, 2013:
It’s partly just the time of year, I guess. Everything’s about socializing, and socializing costs money… and not only that, but I’m not really into socializing. I’m not ‘not’ into it, either. It’s more that little things irk me. Like how Shakira invites Karys to the department party tonight – and she comes (why, God, why?) I’m so fakey fake fake, just sitting there while she makes small talk with the social science staff. I don’t want to drink, meanwhile people get tipsy, and then I have a kind of faraway feeling about the whole situation.
I don’t know how the others do it. Work drinks are definitely not my forte. And there’s another one tomorrow (the whole staff lunch).
Friday 13 December:
The school year winds up. I have one class this morning (9 Social) then junior prize giving – and then the luncheon.
I get through it. Though at one point a relief Math teacher named Milla (it’s her last day) arrives at our table. Just the sight of her always gives me a bad buzz and today I understand why. Having had a few too many wines, she shows us (with a demo) how she flashes her cleavage while taking the roll, to “calm the boys down”. My eyes narrow, and I go very quiet for a couple of minutes, then stroll over to the block just to get away from her, marveling at what kind of dumb hoe would do that? Let alone drop it into the small talk at the Christmas function, as if it was funny shit. But she’s not coming back to MC, so sayonara and good riddance.
Ross intercepts me on the way. “Are you off?” he asks. “You’ve got that ‘leaving’ look in your eye.”
“Nah, just going to the bathroom,” I tell him – it’s a partial truth at best. But then I sigh and give him what seems at least a proximate explanation for my expression: “Actually, it was that silly bitch Milla. I was going to say something if I had to listen to her any longer.”
“You too, huh,” Ross says, in a summative way, and then, “Don’t go before saying goodbye, okay?”
“I won’t,” I tell him.
When I get home, I write the blog post. But the same question: ‘For why? for what?’ is in my heart the whole time. I still don’t know the answer, even though it’s the thing that makes my heart soar. Only… the other part of that thing is riding with the troops – and right now I got no troops.
Saturday 14 December:
First day of the holidays and I guess I do a couple of ‘useful’ things. The laundry, for one, and then sixteen job apps for Tau (he’s got Winz on Tuesday) – and later on, I make dinner.
But my heart is sore, all day. I miss Kepaoa a lot. I’ve never quite gotten over being chopped that way. Even though (right from the time I met him) I figured he was a hustler, I always liked that about Kepaoa – long as he wasn’t trying to hustle me. Nonetheless, it’s made me realize that we all have to stay on our game, in one way or another. No time to be sentimental. But man, I really did care about that egg. Straight up.
It goes without saying how much I miss Tau. I miss Tau’s whole family, actually – I miss hanging out with Sheree over at Fitzroy. And now, I don’t even go into Rutherford Ave, I just wait out in the car when I pick up Tau. I used to pop into Fitzroy Rd all the time, but it’s different now, since everything happened the way it did. I don’t want to assume anything anymore, and I’m sure Sheree feels the same way.
Oh, things are what they are. But I’ve never quite recovered from that feeling I got, the night I came back and found her belongings all out in the sleepout. The night I trembled and shook, knowing at the end of the day I was just a roof, that’s all.
And I miss Slade so much too. My last friend at school – and I don’t want to be there now either. I don’t know where to go, I don’t know quite where to lay my head anymore
It all brings a couple little tears into my eye, but then I shrug. I can’t be as special as I want to be, just by the mere fact of my existence. Nope. I just hope I did something, more than nothing… and that’s as much as I can ever wish for, really. To be there, and to help make something out of nothing much.
Writing about it makes me feel a little more compassionate towards myself. As I go to sleep, I wish… and then I miss… And I remember how it feels, I’ll never forget how it feels – to belong to a place and a time.
And God don’t forget about us, please don’t forget. If any of it ever mattered, then please don’t forget about us for one second. Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t forget.