Eve Of The Semi-Centennial.

Well here we are, nearly 50 posts down, many more to come.

I think about where my life will take me, what sort of things I will encounter as I pass through the years of my life. While I can guess, I really don't know in the slightest how things will work out. There's nothing wrong with planning, I absolutely recommend looking ahead and setting yourself up for a life that's everything you want it to be. If you're incredibly lucky, you'll end up there.\

When I think back to my high school days, especially my final year I was presented (like any graduate) with the question of, "What next?". What did the next year hold for me, the next five, the next two decades, etc. What did I want to accomplish and how as I going to go about doing this? I never really knew what I wanted to do. I can think about a time I was with my dad at a Subway having lunch and we were discussing the possibility of me going to university. He's been very adamant about his children having a post-secondary education, and I felt like I was letting him down by not going. I explained to him that it didn't make sense for me to go to university without a clue of what I wanted to accomplish. Of course I was younger then, and didn't really understand that going to school isn't about knowing what you want to do, it's about knowing you want to find out. I made the decision to continue to work at the restaurant I was working at, telling myself that I could one day make this an actual career.

It was around this time that I had come to know one of my neighbours, Stephanie a bit better than I had at school. During high school we would talk on occasion, but it was purely a school friendship and never extended beyond that. One day when walking home from the bus, she asked if I wanted to come to her house for cake and the friendship extended beyond the school grounds. While I could dedicate an entire blog to the complexities of those first few months, I think only a few things really need be said. First off, she needed work and I got her to apply at the restaurant. She and my brother began dating for a while, but for reasons I am still incredibly ashamed of to this day I broke them up and began dating her myself. We moved in together the following September where I worked at Pier 1, and she worked at a local clothing store. My entire experience with her makes me feel shaky, weak, ill and angry. I'm hoping in putting this down in writing it will help accomplish some sort of catharsis. We didn't work out as a couple, and we broke up and she moved out. For about a year or so afterwards we remained "friends", but I was always attracted to her, physically. When I was afflicted with my condition I hit some pretty severe lows. As my dad will recall there were nights where I would lay on the ground screaming and crying, my legs were covered in blood and my back was ripped open.

I can only say that it is a situation that I should never wish on any soul that has ever lived, or has yet to live.

I knew that we weren't going to get back together, but I tried to make my peace with that. I got a new job, and moved out with some friends of mine. I tried to make the best of the situation and tried to put her and my condition behind me. I was only in the apartment about a month when I got into my accident. She visited me in the hospital, but I was fairly out of it so I don't recall feeling anything in particular. Our friendship continued for several months after that until I couldn't tolerate the fact that she had already been through several guys since then. I called her one night, utterly despondent and asked where she was. She said she was at her new boyfriends house. I asked if she was staying the night, she said she was. I told her we could never speak again. We haven't since.

There's no way I could have foresaw what was to come in the next four years while I was at high school. I could not have begun to imagine the emotional and physical turmoil I would endure in such a short time. In many ways I am thankful for those experiences, they forced me to grow, to become something better than I was. That doesn't mean they didn't also have negative effects as well. Physically I'm not who I should be at 24 years of age. Mentally I feel somewhat burdened by a wealth of experience I was not prepared to carry. I've had great people along for the ride with me. My friends, my family have all helped me deal with this topsy-turvy ride I've been strapped in to.

As I look forward to the coming school year in September, I can't help but feel a bit nervous about what's ahead of me. In some ways I'm scared that it will be over my head, and that I will crash and burn. There's a fear that it will be a lonely experience, one where I either shut people out, or am avoided in the first place. I write this blog for many reasons. I write it for the few people who read it, I write it for myself to record things, but I have also written it as a sort of continuing resume for my life. When I meet people in college who come to know me, and want to learn more I will simply hand them a piece of paper with the address to this blog on it. They will be hard pressed to find a more honest and frank introduction.

I know that while I could die tomorrow or live to be 98, the ultimate direction my life takes will depend on the choices I and those around me make.