One of the classes I need to complete my degree is COM212: Public Speaking. I do not intend to take this class; instead, I am going to complete a “portfolio”, essentially proving that my life has already supplied me with the information covered in the course. So one of the things I have to do is prove my performance experience.

And in order to do that, I have to start pawing through my past. Literally. I have three boxes in the basement: one for high school, one for college, and one labeled “personals” - sentimental things accumulated while I lived at home (diaries, letters, corsages, etc.) I did manage to hit the jackpot, and found what I believe is a stack of programs from every single concert, recital, and show I was in through the end of high school. I always KNEW there was a reason I kept that stuff around!! It’s going to save me money now. The portfolio process costs $125, whereas this class would cost $906 plus a camcorder and a membership in Toastmasters.

Man, it hurts to go through those things. Going through those boxes reminds me of so many naive, careless, stupid, and cruel things I’ve done that I had completely forgotten. I wish that in high school I had the same understanding (and hormonal levels) as I do now. I wish I had been older in high school. And if it meant that I could go back and act then as me now, I would even take on the diabetes ten years earlier. That’s how many things I wish I could change. I didn’t even dare look at most of what was in those boxes. I found what I needed, and then closed them. That’s about the best I can do with the first twenty years of my life.

To all those people I hurt, I am sorry. I hope for your sakes that you’re better at forgiving than I am. I wish I could undo those things. I will always regret that I can’t. And every now and then, like tonight, I still sit back and cry for what I’ve done.

I don’t think hell needs to be anything more than regret.