first loser.
I went bowling yesterday. I came second.
I got a text from Ronan that read;
would i be right in thinking you detest bowling? we are going 2 night. 8pm $7.
It's not that I hate bowling;
I think that the last time I went bowling was in 1989 at the Albury bowling lanes. It was for Danny Ford's 15th birthday.
Danny was a boy with no friends, so was I. Danny really wanted to be my friend but I, perhaps somewhat ungraciously; given my friendlessness, did not want to be his. In high-school there is the taint of social death that outcasts have, some group together for support, for others that just seems like a way to compound their misery; i saw Danny as the bag of rocks that would pull me down into the depths of irretrievable pariah-status.
I would see him riding his bike down the long straight road that led out from town towards my place and my heart would fill with dread at the uncomfortable hours to follow, Danny eager to be friends, me aloof and awkward. Sometimes I would visit him and we would play on his commodore 64 or play pool in the shed and I would curse myself for my cowardice and soft-heartedness; I didn't want to be cruel [this may come as a surprise to some of you] and so cruelly dragged this painful friendship on.
Eventually after one particularly awkward and painful afternoon when I had taken to virtually ignoring Danny in the hope that he would go away, Ronan went up to him and said, "Simon really doesn't like you, you know..." and then told him about how I would talk about him when he rang and my excuses for not visiting him.
Danny rode home crying and never visited again.
I felt guilty and relieved that I didn't have to say those things, and guilty that I let it get to the point where they needed to be said.
I got a text from Ronan that read;
would i be right in thinking you detest bowling? we are going 2 night. 8pm $7.
It's not that I hate bowling;
I think that the last time I went bowling was in 1989 at the Albury bowling lanes. It was for Danny Ford's 15th birthday.
Danny was a boy with no friends, so was I. Danny really wanted to be my friend but I, perhaps somewhat ungraciously; given my friendlessness, did not want to be his. In high-school there is the taint of social death that outcasts have, some group together for support, for others that just seems like a way to compound their misery; i saw Danny as the bag of rocks that would pull me down into the depths of irretrievable pariah-status.
I would see him riding his bike down the long straight road that led out from town towards my place and my heart would fill with dread at the uncomfortable hours to follow, Danny eager to be friends, me aloof and awkward. Sometimes I would visit him and we would play on his commodore 64 or play pool in the shed and I would curse myself for my cowardice and soft-heartedness; I didn't want to be cruel [this may come as a surprise to some of you] and so cruelly dragged this painful friendship on.
Eventually after one particularly awkward and painful afternoon when I had taken to virtually ignoring Danny in the hope that he would go away, Ronan went up to him and said, "Simon really doesn't like you, you know..." and then told him about how I would talk about him when he rang and my excuses for not visiting him.
Danny rode home crying and never visited again.
I felt guilty and relieved that I didn't have to say those things, and guilty that I let it get to the point where they needed to be said.
posted by Simon. at
10:28 PM
5 Comments:
oh SIMON!
that gives me the blues.
and makes me smile too.
that ronan can be blunt huh.
xxx
i do have a preference for the shock and awe approach.
considering all those feelings and admitting to such shocking revelations as "simon has a soft heart" (and poor whatshisname, he's probably suffering still from your mean, brother-reinforced rejection), i do think it is quite brave of you to go bowling in the first place. have a good morning, bear, said the tiger.
p.s.: i NEVER, well, hardly ever, make trouble. or do i. i don't know.
i just thought id let you know in light of this memoir,
that the constant rejection probably made him a stronger person...
and i would also like to say that that wolf is the best thing i have ever seen, and i couldnt stop staring at it, because it has a black rabbit in its belly.
x
And you still go bowling with Ronan.
Beautiful.
Yes, very saddening, drags me back to such similar guilt ridden memories (gulp!). People sometimes do not realise that the black sheep can also be mean and perhaps have more of a need to be. Sad.
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