The Past

My first day at Stanford is filled with cloudless skies as the sandstone buildings stand proud and noble, admiring over one hundred years of historic value. The spacious grounds and open corridors are surprisingly quiet as I suddenly feel a gust of warm air. Then I almost get run down by a speeding bicycle.

“Son of a bitch, man,” the stranger says as his bike comes to a skidding halt. “Sorry, pal. I just pulled an all-nighter working on a final paper. I’m riding on no sleep. I didn’t see you.”

His genuine smile and California looks scream Stanford elite. I don’t expect anything less in the land of palm trees in California’s paradise.

“I’m fine, and it was partly my fault. I was distracted, it’s very different here, and I was just admiring my new surroundings. I’m Theo.” I offer the stranger a handshake, all the while feeling completely out of my element.

“Mathew Barnet.” He accepts my hand with a hard grip. “Die Luft der Freiheit weht.”

“The wind of freedom blows,” I say. The phrase is a quote from Ulrich von Hutten, a sixteenth-century humanist. I’m suddenly happy I did my homework.

“Oh, you are a Stanfordite, all right. I’ve gotta run, Theo, but since you survived our near-death experience here, there’s a party tonight, you’re welcome to attend. The code word for entry is Callipygian. It’s at eight o’clock at Kappa Alpha Theta.”

“Isn’t that a sorority?”

“Sure is.” He offers a seductive smile and rides away.

I find out later that the code word means “nice ass.” It’s hard to resist an offer like that, and I find myself liking Mathew more and more.

The party is an unforgettable night, just like the dozens to follow in my first year in the company of Matt Barnet. The women, the alcohol, the late nights—I experience it all, all the while achieving a 4.0 grade point average. He shows me the way and leads a flock of followers, but he never revels in the power he has. He’s just a natural-born leader. I envy that, I envy him.

The year passes quickly, and soon Matt, our beloved trailblazer, will be graduating and moving into the real world. The late nights we talk about our pasts while finishing off a twelve-pack of Heineken, they all stand out in my mind. He is the only person who really knows my secrets and encourages me to use my newfound skills to deal with the loss I’ve hidden over the years. The years I’ve always wanted to forget.

I didn’t know who I was without my scars, without the hidden sorrow I carry around underneath a cloche of heartache. Matt encourages me to try self-reflection and go on a journey inward to face the hardest of problems and most traumatic events that are festering deep within me.

My memories are safely stored away, hidden by disassociation, and protected by my subconscious. Except for Madison. She still has the power to escape, causing me to relive our last tragic moments together.

 

 

The devastating death of my entire family combined with being the sole survivor at such a young age has obviously been a life-altering experience. What I didn’t expect is how easily it all can be triggered. The sense of loss and grief repeats itself as I go through life, sending me through the same stages of grief all over again.

Matt forces me to admit that grief is a journey that I don’t have to take alone, and as I begin my personal voyage, I discover the support tools are scattered everywhere. Yet finding what I specifically need is a painstaking, arduous process.

People who have experienced the same crisis as me and lived through it, are the connections and support network I need. It’s the answer I’ve been looking for concerning my past, my grief, and the unanswered questions that have sculpted me as a man, changing and twisting, my entire life.

As I open up in more ways, I begin to feel more comfortable. I recognize the courage it takes to trust, share, and unlock the deepest of wounds and attempt to let them go. I know it will take time to put the pieces back together, and I also accept the fact that it will never be truly over. Grief, in some form or another, will follow me the rest of my life.

The worst is over.

Or so I think.

I meet Alex—Alexander Kincaid Storm III, that is—my sophomore year. He is the complete opposite of Matt in personality, but they have one thing in common: pedigree. Both have highly influential parents who have mapped out their futures and set goals on their behalf, never once considering their own dreams and desires. One is destined for law, the other medicine. Matt rebels more often than my new friend Alex, and that’s where most of their differences stand out.

Alex and his laid-back approach to life attract women in flocks. His good looks and playboy style catch the attention of many women on campus. And that’s how the two men meet. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that it’s over a woman.

Janelle is rich and spoiled. Did I mention rich?  Most people would also say she’s beautiful. We’re friends, but nothing more than that. I know her well enough to know that she’s very troubled. Why that doesn’t matter to any of my friends is a mystery to me. If I were to diagnosis Janelle, I would say she’s a textbook case of borderline personality disorder.

she uses startling measures to keep her size-two

figure.

Everything collides one rainy night at Janelle’s birthday party. She’s invited both men, a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Obviously, she’s the tumultuous feline, and there are two unsuspecting mice in her trap.

Alex and I arrive together, then instantly he’s a magnet at her side. I watch her carefree, flirty performance, slightly embarrassed when she forces her tongue into Alex’s mouth, as I stand next to them. Her skimpy white dress rises too high once she’s on her tiptoes with her arms wrapped around his neck.

Then suddenly, out from the shadows, in walks Matt. I’m feeling powerless over the situation as I go in for the obligatory man hug. It’s been weeks since I saw him last with his crazy schedule, but it isn’t long before his eyes travel over to the crash site.

Alex has his hand under Janelle’s dress, with a tight hold on her ass as he crushes their bodies together.

I’m not sure what to expect from Matt, but it isn’t what I’ve anticipated. He slowly walks over to the both of them, gives Alex a hard pat on the back, and abruptly stops the make-out scene.

“She yours?”

Alex, surprised by the question, doesn’t answer right away. “I guess so,” he finally says.

“You can have her,” Matt casually says.

Janelle’s eyes widen in shock.

“Don’t give me that look,” Matt says as Janelle noticeably deflates on the spot.

She looks to Alex, who now has both hands up in the air.

“I don’t like the game you’re playing, Janelle.”

And with that, he steps away and gives Matt a handshake.

“Sorry dude, I didn’t know.”

And they both shrug it off like she means nothing.

Tears spill out of her eyes as she runs outside into the cold rain.

We all follow, feeling a sense of responsibility as we stand on the stoop, covered by the awning. While we stay dry, we see Janelle in the yard, her white dress quickly drenched, dripping at the hem. She’s still sobbing over her botched plan to have two men fight over her. I guess it never entered her mind that both men might throw her away.

We’re alarmed when we witness her taking out a bottle of pills. Unaware of her intentions, Matt approaches her first and reaches for her hand. He slowly takes the bottle from her, reading the label. Then he puts it in his pocket and turns her with both hands resting on her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking into her sad eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she says, as she buries her face into his chest.

We’re all still watching as they both stand in the rain getting soaked.

“You need help, Janelle.”

She nods as the floodgates open and her sobs ring out.

He ushers her into the house and takes care of her.

It’s hard to know why she would provoke such a game when the outcome could clearly leave her with nothing, but then again, it fits her diagnosis to a tee. Matt is nothing less than a champion in my book. He promptly took action and put aside any harsh personal feelings he may have harbored toward Janelle. He simply let his craft take over.

Mathew Barnet was obviously born to be a doctor. How could I possibly live up to his heroic example?

Alex and I continued to feel the weight of that night. The lawyer and the psychiatrist learned something important we would never forget. Those who aren’t the easiest to love are often the ones who need it the most.

Matt knew that, and he proved it by acting on pure instinct.

It wasn’t the last time Matt would surprise us, and when he met Amanda, a whirlwind romance emerged. I had never seen Matt happier, and despite his father’s objections, they were married within six months.

They actually eloped to Vegas, with no prenup, which gave his father a coronary. Knowing Matt, he probably did this on purpose. It was just another reason I looked up to him.

I could never see myself married, though, or even tied down or committed to one woman. It just wasn’t in my DNA. I accepted that, and the women I chose to be with had to accept it, too.

It just wasn’t worth the risk.