The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.
The relationship between Tracy and I had been going downhill since the day we returned to school. With Tracy rather cold to me in Psychology class in the morning and Stander teasing me about how much he’d seen of my girlfriend in Graphic Design at the end of the day I was one seriously emotionally fucked-up kid.
Stander and his constant babbling about how he was spending time with Travis, for that was what he called Tracy for some reason, were pissing me off. The fact that the girl I’d been falling for over the past couple of weeks was suddenly indifferent towards me was equally maddening. Tracy was having me write lists of things I liked about myself, putting me through exercises like I was some sort of experiment for the class we had together. It was very frustrating.
One afternoon during January, as our relationship was melting down, Amity tried to reconcile Tracy and me. She had us talk about what was bugging each other in the living room of Tracy’s place after school and before I had to go to rehearsal for Hansel & Gretel. All I remember is that it ended with a hug. Amity seemed to want to help us make it work and I really appreciated that.
Of course, it didn’t matter for beans when Tracy handed me a note to break up with me a couple of days later. I’m pretty sure Stander rubbed that in my face too.
I hated that motherfucker so much.