Cold, Dark Nights

During my freshman year I was adamantly against drinking with Michael’s death still very fresh in my memory. This didn’t stop me from going to many parties. I didn’t drink a thing all year long even though I was around alcohol every weekend. I could have drank for free every weekend if I wanted to. I had a very hard time accepting drinking as a practice for others. I had been so devastated by Michael’s death that for a while I put all the blame on the drink. This belief gave me plenty of confrontations with my fellow teammates who would get drunk every weekend. It made me quick to judge anyone with a beer in there hand. Any stumbling, laughing drunk was responsible for killing him. Not surprisingly, this had a negative effect on me. I often left parties early. This meant facing a long, cold walk back to the dorms in the crisp wintry Wyoming air.

I wrote this after one of those walks during my first year in Wyoming. As I read it now it feels like a piece of ancient history. It is a lifetime old to me now. Some things have changed, but I haven't forgotten.

April 3, 2002

I find myself in a daze as I sit on the couch. I am not focused on anything. People passing before me in the crowded rooms and hallways are only blurs. I occasionally look up and wonder if any of these people are like Michael? Do they really feel fulfilled by this lifestyle? If not, then why are they here? Why am I here? Do they fear what might become of them if they start doing what they really want to do, and not what everyone else wants to do?

I stand up and move out of the house. People nod in my direction and know that I am going home. No words are necessary. They know this isn't the atmosphere for me.

The night is quiet and dark as I walk home alone. It's late enough that all parties have started and early enough that no one is leaving yet. I have taken many walks like this one tonight while thinking about my reasons for leaving. Tonight, I think of my tendency to judge people so quickly because they drink. It's not right and I try to keep myself aware of this. Instead of criticizing I try to evaluate my own life and situation. This is a difficult thing to do when there is a void and a what if?

Though I am walking by myself, I enjoy it because it lends peace and quiet to a chaotic college weekend. The cold nights in Laramie, no matter if it is winter or...winter, have made me a fast walker. I am back home early enough to do something valuable with my time. I fall asleep reading a book, thinking about my friends out in the night, and hoping they aren't as lonely as the friend I used to have.