So when I was twelve (aka high school.. which was just last year, but looking back, it seems like it was five years ago.. so let's sum it up with twelve.)
anyways, I had a camera. It broke like.. err.. Octoberish of Senior year. Not a big deal, whatever. I mean it probably was back then, but whatever, not the point.
So I found that camera today and found a way to view the old photos. I cried. (yea, what else is new)..
Lovely: Lucky 7 (6) before Homecoming dance =) -- pretty free and loose with the label "Lucky 7" at that point in time.. though we did nearly all manage to take pictures before Homecoming again.. sans SLK =(
Joyous: Junior/Senior wars.. -- oh yea, my school was the size of a peanut.
LMAO: videos of 'pong' night -- entire class of twelve year olds (and a select few younger twelve-year-olds..) used to get together once a week to be awesome. Ha. These videos were a bit ridiculous.. maybe I should adjust my too-high assesment of our maturity level--I think we were probably ten-year-olds here.
Openly wept on my mother's shoulder: Twins game with Andy. Andy was my cousin. I didn't even know him. He died last summer due to a heart defect. He was 17.
When I heard that my dad's cousin was moving to Osakis the summer before my senior year, I was very excited. Being the youngest of six, I had always wanted a younger sibling to take under my wing. I really wasn't a fantastic role model, nor did I have some great advice or leadership skills. For these reasons, I wanted someone who had to look up to me. Because I was blood. I was very happy to hear my victim was a boy--I hate girls. Too emotional.
(ha, yikes. harsh.)
So I snatched this boy up and brought him to all my senior parties to show him off to all my friends. Ok, so he was on the football team and just a year younger than me and I lived in Osakis. So everyone already knew him. Knew him better than me.
I brought him to a twins game to get to know him better and so he could meet some of his other cousins (my brothers and Jaim), and I completely fell in love with this kid. You see, his Grandpa and my Grandpa are brothers. Who live a couple miles from each other. Who never speak to each other. Because they're Grundmans. And Grundmans are crazy. Anyways, Andy and I swapped one-sided stories. He called my Dad Tommy... ok.. tears again. It really was the best day ever. I was looking for a toy to show off to my friends, but instead I got Andy. Thank-you God. I got Andy.
Andy was, strange. I mean really though, he was strange in the way that all Grundmans are strange. Just like goofy and tempermental and in his own head most of the time. But also he was from the big city and we are all like hicks and it was just.. rough for him I think. He was always very homesick for his friends back home. He slowly faded from my group of friends and found new people to hang out with. I slowly talked less and less to him. Because? It was my senior year. I was Busy. (these are my pathetic, sick, make-my-princess-ass-feel-less-guilty, lame excuses.. we actually grew apart because I am a bitch and didn't make time for my own cousin.)
So when Andy got sick last summer, I guess I didn't understand. Because I was still a twelve year old. And then it was like all of a sudden, I was going to his funeral. And nothing matters ever because this 17 year old died. He didn't get to live. God gave me a fucking year to meet this wonderful person and I even knew he was wonderful because I did try at first and found out that he was just such a great person and I loved to talk to him and then I fucking blew it because I didn't understand. I didn't understand that you don't get to have more chances. You onlyget now. It is only now. And everything in the world? Is nothing. People are everything. When someone like that comes into your life, fucking hold on! They will not be there ever again! Because life is Not fair and you have to assume that the good will go away soon enough so when you have it, I don't know. Love it.
If you are ever (EVER) talking to someone or listening to someone or looking at someone and you think to yourself, I like this person, I want you to please, please, freak out. Ask for their phone number and bring them to a Twins game and then to another one next month. Just love them. Call them. Daily. Make them a priority.
I hated being twelve. It hurts. A lot. Learning is awful, painful, scary, lonely, and beautiful.
And I pretend I'm not twelve anymore, but I think I still will be for awhile.
Rae: this was powerful.
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