11:13 a.m. | 2004-12-16
Money, Fortune, or Fame
My senior year in high school (I believe it was my senior year, maybe it was my junior year), one of my best friends and I overheard that our band instructor was going to be playing with the Temptations on their very last tour. Granted two of the temptations were dead, and it was going to be in Wyoming, in some strange performance hall, and no doubt would have many 50 year old women there...we decided to go.
If not for the Temptations, then for our favorite trumpet player, Mister P.
As the story goes I used to have a slight crush on this friend. It turns out it was because he was the first one to ever really pay attention to me and was sort of "cool." I got over that and started dating other boys, living what he called me 'second life' and never really telling anyone about my weekends. But we had a very nice dinner and started to head off to Cheyenne. Taking the backroads we had fun in his new turbo beetle cruising along the highway waiting for the next entrance ramp. I remember looking over and him and thinking of what I used to think of him as he looked back at me, almost leaning over to be closer.
During the concert he kept grabbing my hand. And we laughed and we danced and we sang. And we were the only people under 50 there. He never paid me back for that concert ticket. And afterwards we went and sat behind our teacher's car and waited for him. And literally made him scream when we scared him and as cool as all of this was...I wasn't into it.
Because even at the age of 16 I was too cool for so many things. I was too good to be doing stupid immature childish things. And I was still bitter that my friend didn't love me. I mean, I was loveable, right?
Last night he called me, after about two and a half years of silence. After I was his only friend Sophomore year and I was the only one who ever made an effort to defend him. He knows my phone number. It's been the same since I was 15. He called me as he drove through Cheyenne and he said quietly, as he turned up the radio, for me to listen.
"I've got sunshine on a cloudy day...
When it's cold outside I've got the month of May..."
I could hear his voice (even prettier than when he left) singing along to the tune as he told me thank you for that night. It didn't hit me then and there, but rather added to the something that has been creeping up on me for months. I'm sorry that I didn't have more fun. I'm sorry that I didn't open my heart up more. I'm sorry that I never went out when my friends asked. I'm sorry I never actually studied and I'm sorry I wasted those 4 years. I managed to pull a few people from those years (only by luck) that I will keep but if I could do it again...I wouldn't do a lot of what I did.
There are no regrets in my life.
Because I don't believe in regret. While I may wish that I did something different, I know that without doing it--I'd never realize I don't want to do it again. And so, as I find myself doing it again, I've just gotta stand taller and call more often. Be on top of things and sleep less. Cover more bases. Flash more smiles. Laugh harder than ever.
And I'll be ok.
