Our Summer Exam's started this morning with Irish, and I got through that very well; the questions all suited what study I had done, and I didn't freeze or anything disastrous like that. In fact, I think I may have written one of the best Irish exams of my life, and this thought put me in a good mood for the rest of the morning. I wasn't feeling sad at all. I knew what this day meant, but it didn't seem to matter: it was just another day after all. Having gone home after the exam to get a change of clothes and something to eat I headed into town to meet up with some friends to relax after the day's work. This was nice enough - strolling around the usual streets, lounging on the grass in Stephen's Green. But I didn't seem to be thinking on the same level as the other guys. I couldn't enjoy the conversation or take part in it. They were enjoying a beautiful summer's day in the park, albeit with exams just behind them and more again looming in front, but I wasn't there. Sure enough, it was all being replayed - the lonely, awkward feeling that no-one understands.
We headed back to a friend's house and was feeling pretty down. I stayed on for hours doing very little, probably putting off facing my own thoughts in some subconscious way. It wasn't until I was halfway home on the Luas that it all seemed to hit me.
I started to go over the moment I found out, something I used to do very often but hadn't done in a while before today. Being led into the office where my Dad and C were waiting. I remember the how utterly destroyed they looked. The sinking realisation of despair that exploded inside me that it was all over when he told me. Saying stupid things, stumbling in a daze down the corridor to find my bag so that I could get out. Balling my eyes out in the carpark as Cathy told me about what she had been through that awful day, which I still can't begin to imagine, it makes my mind go blank when I try to think about the feelings. It was all today, even everything afterwards, the detached feelings, the unbearable reality that life goes on, the sympathetic neighbours and the unconscious friends. A year today. A year in a day.
Later on I tried hanging out with my old road friends to see if they'd realise what I was going through. I didn't want to be alone. But they too didn't seem to get it, and it was a much more bitter blow with them. I felt so alienated. I got a lift home with my friend Dc even though it was hardly warranted, as I live no more than two minutes walks away from the person's house I was in. We dropped off N at his house, and once the doors were closed and it was just me and him, plain as you like Dc says "So how are you doing considering the day that's in it?". To be honest at first I didn't even know what he was talking about; he was the first one to say it out loud, and I had been resigned to the fact that no one was going to. It cheered me up somewhat to be able to talk about it a bit. Dc really is a great friend who's always there if you really need him. But it didn't stop me wondering: when it all happened a year ago it felt like I always had someone to talk to. Now it feels like there's no-one. But I know it's just because life has to continue, and I have to live with it. And there's no comfort in that. And there's nothing anyone can say.
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