A Year in the Kingdom

So it’s been a year.

Of course I realized this as I was about to start writing for a myriad of other reasons. And now, I glance at my calendar, and see that today was May 26, 2005. The Kingdom’s first birthday. It’s been an interesting run, yet strangely, there seems to be little to celebrate. As you get older, birthdays pass with perpetually diminishing fanfare (unless, like me, you insist on throwing yourself a party), so why should this be any different? The hits are drying up, my postings have been lethargic, and the novelty of this little neck-of-the woods has worn thin, I’m afraid. Yet still, I post. And today, I post for me.

I’ll start by thanking those of you that have been steady contributors and teammates over the last year, specifically Uram, Kujo, Grampy, Banner, Marc, KLE, Lara, Bill, and Lauren. Props to you all for your interest in my writing, and making my thoughts feel worthwhile. To those of you who come and go, often in anonymity, I thank you for reading and sharing. The most disappointing aspect of this endeavour has been the lack of interest in it by my closest friends, who don’t seem to understand the why and how behind why I write here. I often wonder if anyone really does, -- almost as often as I wonder why you even read what I have to say. So no matter, I salute you all. I’ve tried to make this your space, in a lot of ways, though I hope to begin making it more my space again (as creativity and time permit me as I prepare for the bar). Though I’ll be wrapped up in my Bar Prep over the coming weeks, I plan to keep on trucking no matter how few hits I receive, so know that if you wander away, I’ll always be here, immersed in my own little cathartic corner of cyberspace… and you’re welcome to join me.

That being said, on to what I was really going to write about…

So it’s been three years.

This time in 2002, I was in California with six of my closest friends, almost entirely certain I had everything figured out. Two days from now, I’ll receive my Juris Doctorate, my family will tell me how proud they are of me (aunts and uncles are coming out of the woodwork), and it’ll all feel strangely anticlimactic, pointless, and embarrassing. Despite my best efforts, I’ve been unable to keep my family from making a Big Deal of the First Knor to Graduate from Law School. I suppose I’ll just let them be proud for a day, though I find it increasingly confusing that all I’ve ever wanted was for my parents to be proud of me, and though I know they are, I don’t want to accept it, nor any of the accompanying accolades, this weekend. I would really just rather hide. I would really rather just go back to California.

California. I still remember The Moment. Standing on the bridge in Yosemite that Kurt and Buff would soon jump off of, in the process disturbing the serenity of the seemingly pure mountain stream, I looked up and around me, and counted (what was it? Seven? Eight?) seven waterfalls pouring into the valley around me. It was so green, and so beautiful. So moving. I was there with my dearest compatriots, basking in the glow of my Dickinsonian accomplishments, feeling so perfect, and so complete... almost.

It was then that I realized that the one thing missing, was the one person missing. The one person I should’ve told everything to before leaving. By “everything,” I mean, “Everything.” I knew my life would include law school in Pittsburgh, a year or two of eastward commutes, and then finally, togetherness. I knew who I wanted to be with, I knew who I loved. And I didn’t tell her. Somewhere before that trip, though, I had lost her. Sometime during that trip, she actually left.

Of course we all know of whom I speak, and of course you're all groaning at my continued self-torment, but I’m in a reflective mood this evening, so you’re going to have to bear with me. Because it’s been three years, and I still know that feeling. It still overwhelms me, still confuses me, still haunts me. It still overjoys me, saddens me, leaves me empty, and fulfills me all at once. It’s an incredible understanding of what I want, and what I can’t have that in three years, I’ve not learned how to deal with.

But what of the now?

Now, I live in the understanding of what cannot, and will not be. I seemingly revel in the self-destructive contentedness of beautiful friendship, and I live petrified by what it means to graduate Saturday.

Graduation means I’ve made it. Or at least, that’s what everyone seems to think. Since I first saw A Few Good Men with the aunt that would become my roommate some 13 years ago, I’ve dreamt of becoming a lawyer. Of going to law school. I’ve dreamt of making my father and my late-grandfather proud by making good as the “smart one.” Two men who I will forever cherish, admire, and respect, they’ve both demanded perfection of me with the quietist intensity. Both deceptively intelligent, they parlayed their abilities with tools and machines into a respected command of life through a grasp of “common sense.” Since I neither had the interest nor the ability to be a similarly well-equipped greasemonkey, there was only one way to make them proud, and it wasn’t by writing comics, drawing pictures, or acting in plays. It was by getting straight A’s, and becoming something “better” than they had dreamed. By proving that blue-collar hard work, grease, and sweat could pay off in children and grandchildren. It was about having a job with a tie, a briefcase, and a Big Fancy Diploma. For my sister, that translated loosely into “doctor.” For me, that translated into “lawyer.”

I don’t mean to complain. I’m happy with my career choice, don’t regret it for an instant, and love the thought of being a lawyer. But in realizing I’ve accomplished that (being that my family fails to realize the JD means jack without the Bar Exam), and have made them both proud (so they don’t have to be embarrassed at being related to the little boy that doesn’t like to hammer nails), I’m wondering what’s left for me. What’s graduation mean to me?

It means I’m a failure.

I have found that I have accomplished all I wanted for others, yet so little of what I wanted for myself. My graduation is a tragic reminder of what I’ve truly failed to do over the last few years of my life. Now, Now- settle. I’m happy. I’ve got AMAZING friends, both old and new, and a fantastic little life built up in a city I positively adore. I’ve got an incredible family, I understand myself in ways I never thought possible, and I have immense hope for the future. What I have failed to do is capture, bottle, contain, cherish, and build upon That Moment in Yosemite. Though I have been able to learn and grown from my mistakes, I have failed to triumph over them. Needless to say my Big Plan never came to fruition, and tonight I was reminded of that.

So when she actually hinted at coming to Commencement, I nearly broke down. I want her there, want her to see me this time, which is why I made sure to put on my regalia for her this evening; but the very thought that tonight I virtually repeated, verbatim, the same conversation I had with her three years ago, where I explained that she need not come to Commencement, because it’d be boring, and she’d be stuck with my family, just reminded me of how little I’ve moved forward in three years. It just reminded me of how much I’ve failed to accomplish the one, true goal I set for myself in California. And how insignificant everything else seems in comparison.

Graduation is a sign that, like Obi Wan Kenobi, my “failure is complete.” However, it’s not a sad occasion. I’ve achieved so much, and come so far, and learned so much about myself and others and life and love. I guess that’s what Commencement will truly mean Saturday. It really will be the beginning of something new. The actual Brave New World I’ve been waxing poetically about is coming dangerously close to opening up to me. In this World, though—I’m playing for me, and I’m going after what I want, and I’m not going to let the expectations of others get in the way of that. I’m not going to look to make anyone proud of me, and I’m not going to look to fulfill some master plan of life, career, and family. I am, however, going to triumph over my mistakes. Of this I still believe.

In the meantime, life is good. And here’s to all those that helped me get to this point. There are so many teachers, family members, friends, teammates, Brothers, girlfriends, etc., who got me here that I can’t even begin to name names. Some of you know how you’ve helped, and many do not, and never will. But the fact remains that my J.D. represents the accomplishments of a LOT of people.

So thank you, for a year of Blog-Support, and a lifetime of strength, encouragement, friendship, and love.

I could’ve never done it without yinz.
-apk