March 26, 1997  Wednesday

I have only a few things to say today, but I think they are important.  I am feeling complications where they shouldn’t be any.  Now, Hoke and Sidney aren’t trying to be openly mean, but there have been in the last few days a number of private discussions and the appearance of inside-jokes.  I don’t know how to explain how this makes me feel right now.  I tried just try to not pay attention, because it is probably just a passing thing, and I also do know they are my friends and would never purposefully reject me.

These are the times that I hate my journal.  I despise only being able to collect my thoughts of paper, and seldom in conversation.  My life is not a bound book for one self, and this journal was never meant to be an “imaginary friend” I could tell my frustrations to.  Life is supposed to be lived and not to scribbled about in the margins.  Sometimes I wish I could start over.  All over.  And say to the world of strangers, “Hi, I’m Will.  How are you?”  I cannot be changed in the eyes of others for, no matter how hard I try, they will see what is before them, and what the experiences of me has taught them.  If these words feel like a boil, a very healthy amount is directed at myself, because I don’t want to the cause of storms, and would like a more agile mouth that, with a joke or few words, would calm the waves that occasionally swell up in life.

On a much lighter sidee, Colin and I are going to Ducky’s tomorrow at ten.  Gotta look our best for Prom.  Tomorrow starts our five-day Spring Break.  An extended weekend is just what I need.

Saturday is the Alumni banquet.

P.S.–

In the lunch line Sidney asked me why I went out for baseball.  “After all,” she said, selecting tator tots with a quick “please” and a point, “You don’t like practice, and you don’t play in the games.”  I said it would take awhile to explain well.  I went on to say, snatching a chocolate milk from the cooler, that I hoped to play in later games, but no one was really listening.

Let me tell you now, as I have moment, to explain why I went out for baseball (because some excellent points were raised above).  As I said in line, if I hadn’t gone out I would regret it.  I had to prove to myself that I could do it, even if it’s just getting through practices.  And, I wanted to keep up with the others.  And I wanted to take batting practice in the cages.  And I wanted to shag high, loping flies in the afternoon sun.  I knew I wouldn’t play before I signed up.  I love baseball.  To have a bat in my hands, to round the bases, to whip the ball into the cut off man just right.  I had to give myself a last chance to live out my dreams; dreams that really don’t want any part of me.  That is why I went out.