Thank You

Today I did something that I haven't done in a very long time.

It's not the most masculine thing to admit, but honestly I don't really give a fuck. I cried. Pretty hard. I didn't cry when it looked like I was going to fail economics and by extension my senior year of high school, I didn't cry when I realized that my further education would put such an enormous financial burden on both myself and my parents, and I didn't cry when, at various points in the year, I felt like something worthless beyond words.

I didn't even cry last week when my world continually shifted from perfect to abysmal at an alarmingly regular rate. I tried to cry then. I thought that doing that which I hadn't done in months would cleanse away all of the pent up emotions and feelings inside, that it would make everything normal again.

And that's really why I started crying tonight, or the early this morning if you're that picky. The word "normal" means something completely different now. A few months ago it was go to bed around 2, wake up at 8 or 9 depending on the day (though that's really 8:30 and 9:30, modestly), go to school, get out of school, go to either work or something hockey related, and then go home, rinse, and repeat. There might have even been some schoolwork mixed in there at some point.

Now what does "normal" mean? I don't really have any idea. I'm in limbo right now. Out of high school but not in college yet. I doubt I'll adjust to that until I turn 19, but I'd be dissatisfied if I said that the lifestyle change is what's bugging me.

Because really it's not. It's you. Yes, you. This is addressed to all of you reading this, assuming I have spoken to you or have some kind of association with you. I sit here, having walked across a stage in downtown Dallas not 24 hours ago to receive a "diploma", and I realize that the one single thing that I'm going to miss about Plano in all of its broiling hot splendor is all of you.

And I have a message for all of you.

No matter how much I've shouted at you, no matter how many different variations of the word "motherfucker" I've used to describe you, and no matter how much I've disagreed vehemently with you, I love you. There were points in my life where I really didn't see a point in getting up and going through my normal routine, and I really believe that if it weren't for all of you, I wouldn't have.

Some of you have made me laugh uproariously, some of you have almost made me blow an artery in anger, and some of you have even made me cry, both tears of joy and sorrow. But all of you have had at least some impact on my life, shaping me into the wild-haired and unshaven vagrant you see today.

That's not saying you haven't done a good job of it, just that I prefer the whole "wild man in the forest" look to being clean cut.

But yes, I love all of you. Next year and for all of the years afterwards, I'll miss all of you dearly. I might see a few of you along the way, maybe even get to know a few of you even better than I do now. For the rest of you, don't go thinking about forgetting me. You'll still need to know a little bit about me when a familiar name shows up on the front of a New York Times Bestseller and/or a Pulitzer prize.

Inclosing, thank you all so much for the last 1-18 years. You still have no idea how much all of you mean to me even after I've smacked you in the face with it since the beginning of this diatribe.