All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
The Fall MAG
We are all interconnected on the web of life.
That spring was gorgeous. Persephone, herself, walked the earth, waking it from its sweet slumber. The trees were in bloom, the grass was green, and the flowers ran rampant. I was immersed in a world of beauty and that is when I notice Jane. We had been friends for awhile, but that spring we became inseparable. On those clear, blue nights, we would talk about everything. Friends, school, boyfriends, and a love of life drew us together.
Summer came; it was hot, too hot. I was bloated with heat; and a wildfire blazed through my mind. I was absorbed by Jane. She became my life. I only felt normal – loved, with her – yet I also felt internal disgust with my happiness. She was my best friend and I loved her – but more that that, I was in love with her.
For months, I had battled my emotions. I had an internal war raging in my head. I tried to ignore my growing attraction to her. Lord knows I couldn't talk about it. Jane at that time was my only connection to the real world, the straight world. I was isolated and starved when I finally surrendered, and I finally decided to tell her.
It was an early fall that year. The temperature must have dropped 65 degrees in one week. I remember the cold moving in so clearly.
It was a mid-August night, Jane and I had spent the day playing cards and watching TV. I was waiting for the night to come, for everyone else in my house to retire. I was extremely tense. We were finally alone around ten in the kitchen. I looked at her for the first time that night, directly. I said something like, “I want you to look at something. Please don’t laugh and please don’t hate me.” I went to retrieve a book of poetry, poetry I had written to her.
We sat down in my living room. I knew I was shaking. With her pale, thin fingers, she began flipping through my flower-covered book. It was too much for me to bear. I left for the kitchen to pace. Pacing had always made me feel better, although it did not make time go any faster. My palms were sweating. It was the longest 15 minutes of my life. When I returned to the living room she said, “We have to talk.”
The rest of the night is a blur. We talked and walked for about two hours. There was nervous tension, an ominous feeling that was not present before.
She left in confusion and soon after I went on vacation. I did not have the best timing, but it made sense at the time. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had not left her alone and confused for the week. But insomnia is built upon "what if's."
The last time we talked was a week after I returned from New Jersey. We talked on the phone for about three hours. She said that she did not want to see me again. She asked me not to call her or even talk to her in school. I was so desperate; I pleaded and begged and even cried. But she hung up. Connection terminated.
It was a hard fall. My sanity grew crisp and fell like leaves, piece by piece upon my soul. I placated myself with school and sports. I was drowning in my own sorrows and in my own tears. There was no one to turn to.
Fall was hard, but winter was far worse, Like many trees that lay dormant in the cold, I hung to life by a thread. Cold wind whipped through my head.
We are all interconnected on the web of life. Whether we like it or not, nature is all around us. And if you hang on, just hang on, spring always follows winter. It was a beautiful spring.