So you’re sitting in Washington 201, that large lecture hall in the Modern Languages and Literature building, with the anthropology department in the basement, staring out the open door in front of you at the wood paneling surrounding the door to the women’s room across the hall, reading the honour pledge on the wall over the professor’s head over and over again, and gazing at all the flyers stapled to the wall. You see ads for Kaplan courses and invites to the Winged Nation poetry reading, and notice that some on-campus group is putting on a production of Oklahoma.
And you weep.
In the middle of class, three rows from the front where Prosl yabbers on about Z-buffer algorithms. You stop taking notes, stop listening, stop caring. And wish desperately you had taken starryiied up on her suggestion of skipping class and just hanging out. But you went… to avoid the questions and harassment of your best friend, who’s also in that class.
So what’s wrong? No, it’s not that time of the month… Corey glances at you every so often as you brush away another tear, squeezes your arm to let you know that life is ok.
And then after class, after you finally pull your head out of your ass and draw some graphs, but still without any comprehension of the lecture, Corey asks what’s wrong. There’s no way to explain it… So you take the easy way out and just tell him that Kurt and you had a fight again, that he threatened to break up with you because he’s tired of the stupid arguments, that he didn’t seem to care that you’re coming up on your 10-month-versary with him. And Corey understands, and hugs you, and holds you while you start to cry again.
But it’s not just that. What IS wrong? Yes, you have a program due tomorrow, and no, it doesn’t work quite right, but you don’t really care about that. It’s not too big a deal. And yes, you have another graphics program due next week that will prevent you from spending the weekend with Kurt (if you’re even dating him by the weekend), but you’re not stressing about it.
And you wonder why you don’t want to be around your friends so they can cheer you up. Do you really like being depressed that much? Or is it just a need to be alone and shed some tears and cleanse the system?
As you walk back from dinner, you realize several other things… especially that there is no “next year” for you here. No worries about which dorm you’re going to live in next year, because next year you will be living in your own place — somewhere. You realize that today is the last Novemeber 14th you will spend on campus, and that makes it a bit more poignant.
You wish you could deal with all of it without getting emotional. Without crying on someone’s shoulder.
Maybe it’s the holidays… your dad has always had a problem with the holidays and gets really stressed out… Maybe it’s a holdover from that, especially with the Thanksgiving plans being argued about and folks not seeming to want to compromise on anything.
Or maybe it’s just that time. Like those lines from Ecclesiastes that the Byrds immortalized with “Turn Turn Turn”… Maybe it’s my time to cry right now, and some other time it will be my time to laugh.
Maybe I’m too optimistic…