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shawn
February 20, 2003, 2:15 pm
Megan sent me a link and said that this reminded her of me. See you think by clicking here.
I talked to Shawny today. Shawn and I met when the alphabet fatefully placed us together in 10th grade Speech class. He was cute, smart, and way too "cool" for me, or so I thought.
Shawn and I continued our classroom friendship (and I harbored a secret crush) for the next three years; admittedly, I was surprised how open he was with me about things that were bothering him or what his problems were. He was kneedeep in one of the most popular cliques in school, and while I was friends with everyone (all social castes, believe it or not), I was somewhat of a liability, I thought. I knew my association with the weird drama freaks, the nerds, and the hard-as-a-rock jocks made me somewhat of an enigma. I was someone who could permeate all social stigma, but I recognized that my acceptance of others made me sort of a part of every group that I had tried to shatter. Shawn didn't seem to mind, though.
We went to every football game together our senior year; capping off a victory or a loss (it could have been either; we were always 5-5 my years there) at Denny's. While I considered Shawn a great friend, I never suffered under the delusion that he felt the same way about me. I think I'm to blame for my attitude and what with being very stuck up about my boundaries as a social butterfly, as Shawn never said anything about my other friends, and I don't think it ever bothered him that I was friends with people that I had imagined he made fun of quite often.
The week before most of the "crew" (the football-Denny's/popular kids sect) left for college (most to state schools: Towson, College Park, UMBC, Salisbury, and Loyola...we all hit pay dirt as far as in-state scholarships were concerned), we went to Denny's one last time. THe conversation was far from what I'd call stimulating, but there was a comfort in the finality of our send-off. In the parking lot, I hugged everyone (who, incidentally, I'd never considered the huggy type), and Shawn said something to me I'll never forget:
"Ms. Biensoul (he always calls me by my last name), if you don't keep in touch with me, I don't know what I'm going to do."
I was stunned. Perhaps I did mean more to him that I had thought.
And that brings us to now. Throughout college, we spoke every few months; checking our respective progress, making sure that we were still alive and well and happy. He started dating Stacey (a story for a bit later); he broke up with Stacey; he moved to the city. He's a Microsoft-certified computer guy that does web-consulting whosawhatsits, and he marvels at my a) wanting to teach and b) wanting to teach at our alma-mater.
He never forgets my birthday. (A function of the introductory speeches that we had to make in 10th grade; his is Feb. 3rd.)
Drunk one night, I told him about Voldemort and he didn't judge me. He gets really upset whenever he breaks up with someone, so much so that I worry about him sometimes.
I know that whatever I end up doing, I'll always stay in touch with him, even more so than my dearest of dear friends now. There's a comfort in our detachedness, as if we know that we'll always be close, and we don't need to talk every day to be so.
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