WA#10 draft 2
His name was Eli and we had been friends since first grade. We spent so much time at each others houses that we were practically brothers. Things were good but Eli was always teased. There was just something about him that was different. Maybe it was his lisp, or it could have been the way he talked to people, but whatever the reason, people did not take kindly to him.
I only really took notice of this kind of treatment in Fifth grade. Fifth grade was a bad year for me. This was the year that I became conscious of the fact that I wasn’t in fact “cool”. This put me in an awkward position, because I couldn’t be cool while Eli was around, but he was my best friend. Slowly I tried to disassociate myself with him to see if more people would accept me. I could tell he was hurt by this but I pressed on all the same.
One day I told Eli that he was un-cool and therefore could not hang out with me. I was welcomed with open arms in to the other kids circle, but they slowly grew disinterested in me. I began to tease Eli around the other kids so they would take an interest in me. Finally one day I was so mean to him that I sent him away in tears. People loved me for this, but their attention meant nothing to me anymore. The stress of being an asshole can really get to you if you are not careful. I had decided that enough was enough. A few days later, after not making fun of Eli for a while, I was shoved away from a group of people playing basketball, and went out to roam the field behind the school. Eli found me and came over to talk. As he walked toward me, I turned around and walked away. It hurt me to do this, but after all this time, I still worried about what people would think of me. Later I would want to shoot myself for this, but what’s done is done, no matter how bad you feel.
A few years later I saw Eli out and about on a Friday night. He recognized me right off and came over to talk to me. Either he had forgotten about our fifth grade year, or he had just never hated me for what I did. We spent a few minutes catching up before he went on his way. I haven’t seen him since, but I can never forgive myself for what I did.
I only really took notice of this kind of treatment in Fifth grade. Fifth grade was a bad year for me. This was the year that I became conscious of the fact that I wasn’t in fact “cool”. This put me in an awkward position, because I couldn’t be cool while Eli was around, but he was my best friend. Slowly I tried to disassociate myself with him to see if more people would accept me. I could tell he was hurt by this but I pressed on all the same.
One day I told Eli that he was un-cool and therefore could not hang out with me. I was welcomed with open arms in to the other kids circle, but they slowly grew disinterested in me. I began to tease Eli around the other kids so they would take an interest in me. Finally one day I was so mean to him that I sent him away in tears. People loved me for this, but their attention meant nothing to me anymore. The stress of being an asshole can really get to you if you are not careful. I had decided that enough was enough. A few days later, after not making fun of Eli for a while, I was shoved away from a group of people playing basketball, and went out to roam the field behind the school. Eli found me and came over to talk. As he walked toward me, I turned around and walked away. It hurt me to do this, but after all this time, I still worried about what people would think of me. Later I would want to shoot myself for this, but what’s done is done, no matter how bad you feel.
A few years later I saw Eli out and about on a Friday night. He recognized me right off and came over to talk to me. Either he had forgotten about our fifth grade year, or he had just never hated me for what I did. We spent a few minutes catching up before he went on his way. I haven’t seen him since, but I can never forgive myself for what I did.
posted by Bentley at 4:17 PM
1 Comments:
Oh god. Just about everyone from Waldorf says they hated fifth grade, and that's why.
I wish there was some way I could say how sorry I feel. I'm really glad you wrote about this.
I think the next time I see him, I'll say something. Thanks for putting it out.
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