woe is me... again

Loneliness. It’s enough to make a person’s heart bleed and a soul cry.

Just thinking today, about daylight savings, and how much fun I used to have in the delayed nightfall last summer is enough to make me cry.

Seemingly endless times of driving around town with the KoRn or Limp Bizkit on full volume, sun shining down, consumption of alcohol, parties, laughter, gossip, swimming in the various lakes over summer, picnics bought at Big Fresh with my 5% employee discount containing strawberries, fruit salad, coke, chips and the way they smelt when they had spilt all through a boot of a car and left, by accident there in the sun for 2 days... my first attempt at water
skiing, having the first person ever ask me out, then being hit upon by his drunken friend. Friends being harassed by cops, getting fines, and speeding tickets. Plans made in our chat rooms, the formation of #rotorua coming out of drunken conversations near Christmas, the fall of our previous chat room. The time my friend came to stay and got in much bother and basically set the scene for the entire Summer. Monopoly played in drunken states, swimming in the natural hot pools that only locals knew about and the teenagers used them to their best advantage. The time one of my friends decided to strip and harass us all with his nakedness and then on a trip into town running out of petrol and having to watch him get dressed in the middle of a main road.

None of that waits for me when I head home this summer, none of it.

The people that had cars either don’t have them anymore, or are too buggered up in the head, having been fucked around by chicks. The drinking of alcohol will take place, but with the majority of us being of legal age, it will happen in bars, and we’ll avoid the fun and anxiousness of buying underage, and we’ll no longer have to worry about someone getting too drunk and chundering all over the floor and the correct way to clean it all up. We won’t have to worry about our parents finding out, which in hindsight, was part of the fun. My previous role of gossip master is no longer mine, I used to know everything, who liked who, who fucked who, and where the next party was. Having been away for a year, the group dynamics have changed, and I am only a small part of it. The picnics will still come about, with other peoples discount, but there will be new faces, and some of the smiles wiped off the old ones, with them gone to find new groups.

The natural hot pools are no longer a destination on the list with an outbreak of some disease or another, killing a small child, on the same day we were supposed to go. but didn’t by a close vote. Our hang out spots will have changed, lakes will change to cafes, and most will be working, saving to go to uni next year.

It aches my heart to think that times will never be the same again. That the people who used to be the drunken hooligans, are now the sombre, depressed drunks, and the sober, levelheaded ones, no longer are there.

I’m sure I will come across this problem many times in my life, that the way I remember things will change completely and I will be left to gape at them, with my jaw ajar and with tears in my eyes, but I guess I’ll have to live with it.

No matter how much I hate it.