A Place In The World

We all make sacrifices in this world, whether its for the never simple balance of work and play with our significant other or the giving up of our Mars bars so that we can have a coffee with our friends.  Sometimes the choice is easy to make, dump the boyfriend so I can have more time or screw my friends, I want that bar, but rarely does making that choice not add up to a form of consequence.  I have been living in the megalopolis that is Toronto for just over a year and I feel the strain on that sacrifice, that giving up of myself on a daily basis.  I watch as I have to make compensations in my relationships ("Fine I'll think about sex"), my friends ("Fine I won't ask that guy to dance because you've had a crush on him for years and never even asked him out"), but mostly what it comes down to is that I sacrifice a part of myself I may not want to give up, just so I can have the liberty of friends and boyfriends by my side.

This is not new to me though.  It's like a eternal battle for me, stay true to myself and risk a life without friends or give in a little and the possibility of a deep earnest friendship comes my way. Sometimes it works out in the end, I end up with this meaningful friendship or this caring boyfriend by my side.  However more times than enough, it ends up in disaster because in the final reel, I give up a part of me while the other person barely changes a small aspect of myself eg. I give into the idea of sex while he reluctantly watches a movie with me that he doesn't like and while doing so, complains the whole time.

It all comes down to the search for meaning in one's life and the hope that someone has the same feeling, dream, hope that you do.  I tried to find that once many years ago in my first year of high school.  Never has a tragedy come through the use of hockey cards.  Gretzsky never knew what hit him.

I wasn't extremely popular when I entered high school, in fact I wasn't popular at all.  After eight very long years of isolation in Minto School, I was on a search to find someone, anyone who I could befriend.  I seemingly found this in a guy named Geoff Unrau and his buddies.  I barely talked to anyone, but these guys bugged me constantly and since I figured it couldn't get any worse than where it was, I would try to bond with them through something that they understood: Hockey.

For anyone who has never lived in the prairies, hockey is a way of life.  If you don't play, you find a way to become involved for sheer survival and popularity.  This was my predicament, how do I bond with this?  I couldn't skate or stop for that matter to save my life, so playing wasn't an option.  I could watch with them, but I'm sure they would figure out my naivete very fast.  However one day, inspiration hit me while going illegally through my brother's bedroom: hockey cards.

The next day, I went to school with a breeze confidence and snuck into the conversation about the hockey cards.  Geoff and his gang found this very appealing and asked if I could bring them.  I was reluctant, but I figured I couldn't stop now.  The next day I brought them and they clammered through the box to see what I had.  To say that there were some good cards in the bunch would be an understatement, but because of my lack of knowledge, I had no idea.  Next thing I know, they offer to check the cards worth, at home of course, and would tell me the next day.

The next day comes and the cards suddenly vanish without the faintest idea about when they would be returned and I suddenly have the great joy of reporting to my brother that I gave his cards away.  I gained nothing of a meaningful relationship with any of these guys and my brother was furious in that quiet way that makes the whole situation worse.  In fact the only thing I achieved out of the whole thing was the great pleasure in finding out I may have given away valuable cards for absolutely nothing.

If I could describe my entire high school experience in one way, it would be the continuous let-down of possible friendships due to sacrifice.  If I would have worked same-sex relationships into that kettle during that time of my life, I can't imagine how depressed I would have been.  I would have locked the closet door until I was forty.  Thankfully I opened that door later.

Not that doors are that much easier to open to new friends and possible boyfriends.  Sure from time to time, the door of possibly more springs out and someone I meet seems probable to be something more than a lost cause.  I don't give my trust out as commonly or without a little caution, but I tend to play the odds a little more than I did in the past.  I'm fortunate to have a few friends who through months and years of knowing, have been honest to me and remain stable and trustworthy.  These are the people's hands I have placed my (hockey) cards in and luckily for the most part, we both know how valuable they are.