Saturday, May 10, 2014


Today was the day I was supposed to do the walk across the stage.  Wearing a stuffy black robe and hat, likely sweating up a storm during the hours of wearing the thing.  All to spend all of 10 seconds on the stage itself, getting an empty tube, shaking hands, then leaving again.

Today, I didn't do that.  I woke up, got on my computer - and had it hit me that I wasn't walking.  I had decided weeks, months ago that I wasn't going to walk, for a multitude of reasons.  Some of it out of spite, some out of anger, but a big part of it being practicality - at least two of the most important people to my college education couldn't have attended because of the health implications of the graduation venue.  So I made the decision to not walk, to instead invest into a graduation party - one where I could celebrate with everyone.

Today, it finally hit me.  I saw pictures and cried.  Cried for my lost walk, cried for sacrificing one of the things I have fought seven long years for.  Cried for the fact that my parents, grandparents, Ron, myself - would not get to see my reward for a well fought battle.

Today, I will grieve for what I've given up.  I will cry, and moan, and lament.  I will hate the world.  I will hate the school.  I will hate my decision.

Tomorrow, I will get up.  I will plan my party, plan my future.  I will call my family, and wish my mother-figures a happy mother's day.  I will play with Stormy, clean the house, contemplate whether I want a peanut butter sandwich or soup for lunch.   I will continue the course I set seven years ago, when I decided to attend Purdue University Calumet.