Project Equality

On the Verge

Lisa

I can't decide which part of graduation I loved the most. It was rewarding to hear them call my name as I received my diploma:

"Lisa O'Ryan!"

I almost cried when Lynn gave her valedictorian speech. Oh, yeah, that's right. Our little Lynn, our punk rock Lynn, worked her butt off so that her GPA qualified her as the valedictorian.

"A few years ago, I never really knew any of you. Then you all started coming to the Club I helped run with my best friends, and I still don't really know you. Not personally, at least. But you guys know me, and we've shared a lot of experiences." She paused to think before continuing. "We are the future. I think that's a really stupid and basic thing to say, but we are. The Class of 2018 represents a group of students who may contain the first lesbian president - looking at you, Ely - or one of the most well known photographers or cello players of our time. We have so many opportunities and resources that generations before us could only dream of. There is so much that we can make happen.

"The thing with being a punk presenting kid is that most of you were pretty shocked to hear my name as valedictorian, or even just receiving the AP Diploma. Shouldn't I be rebelling against all of this? Well, this is my rebellion. I'm doing things that no one would have dreamed some punk ass - can I say ass here? - orphan was capable of. All of us who made it here, who got scholarships and accepted into colleges that no one dreamed we could get into, this is our rebellion. Be rebellious, be punk, do things that no ones thinks you're capable of. The future is here, and it's time to own it."

Maybe my favorite part was throwing our caps into the air and cheering like the end of a cheesy high school movie. And maybe it was the look on May's face, shining with pride, as the seven of us walked, in our caps and gowns, to the coffee house where we'd shared so many moments.

Graduation was a good day. I wanted to start with graduation, because the next day I'm going to recount to you is not happy memory. I daresay that it is my least favorite memory that doesn't contribute to my PTSD (i.e., not traumatic, but heartbreaking).

It started when May and I were on a date, sitting outside for a picnic . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I love June," I noted, flopping back on the grass. "It's so pretty out here, the weather is nice, and it just fills me with joy."

"Me too," she agreed, laying beside me. I didn't know what was running through her head. Then again, I rarely did in those days. She always seemed a million miles away after prom.

"Are you excited for this summer?" We were planning a group trip to Europe, which was our most extravagant and fun vacation yet. Of course, the smaller things could be fun too, but May's inheritance was making the expensive options a lot more achievable and fun. We would be gone for the whole of July.

"Yes. I cannot wait. I have only been to Spain once to visit family when I was young. I cannot wait to see the rest that Europe has to offer. My mother used to tell me so many stories about the places she went. It should be beautiful."

"It'll be amazing. I've only ever gone to New York with you guys, but other than that, I've stayed in Michigan. I can only imagine all the pictures I can take."

"Yes, that should be good for you."

We laid around for a while longer before we started to get up and pack our things to head back to my place. As she grabbed her purse, though, a tiny piece of paper fluttered out. I picked it up to hand it to her, but when I saw what it was, I paused. A photograph.

A photograph of her and Shreyas.

"What's this?" I asked, trying to keep my head. It was an old picture in an old purse, surely there was a good reason it was somehow in there. Even if there wasn't, surely she could invent a good reason.

"Sorry, I . . . it is nothing of importance." She stuck it back in. "Shall we go?"

"Yeah. No, wait, hang on. Did you know this was in here? You don't look surprised, I'm just curious."

She looked away from me. "Lisa, please. Can we not do this now? Not on such a lovely day."

"There's never a good or right time for this," I sighed, shoving the picture at her. "Why can't you just answer my questions?"

"You will not like my answers."

"Answer them anyways," I pleaded.

"I carry it around because sometimes I feel like I am forgetting his face, what he looks like. I forgot my mother's voice very soon after she died, and I do not want to forget him. Okay?"

"Do you know what it feels like?" I asked, feeling all of the exhaustion that had been piling up over the past few months hit me all at once.

"What what feels like?"

"Being your second choice, being the next best thing, being the other girl. Do you even know what that's like for me sometimes?"

"Lisa, come on, that is not true."

"Really? Because you think about him all the time, you visit his grave once a month, and you carry his picture around with you all the time. It's like you still love him with all your heart, and I'm just the consolation prize you get in light of your true love's death."

"Lisa, do not be absurd, you know that I love you. Shreyas is dead, there is no way I could leave you for him."

"But if he was here, you wouldn't even be with me!" She didn't say anything, and tears stung my eyes. I know that it sounds crazy, irrational, but listen. If your girlfriend loved her dead ex more than she loved you, eventually, you'd get pretty exhausted by it too. You know that you would.

"There is no way of knowing that," she argued, but I shook my head.

"You still carry his picture with you! It's been almost four years, Mayella, and he's still at the top of your list. You're basically sitting around waiting for him to come back, and you've settled for me because you know that he can't. I deserve more than that."

"Yes, you deserve more. I am trying to give you more. I have lost someone I loved, though, and that takes a long time to get over."

"I lost someone too!" I reminded her. "I lost Noah, so don't tell me about pain of losing someone who you once upon a time loved. That's different."

"Love is different for you than for me," she said, getting frustrated and tearing up.

"Oh, is it? How, please, do tell."

"You have been in and out of love a hundred times. I have only cared for two people. They mean more to me than just some old boyfriend."

"For goodness's sake, May! What did you think, that my love gets chopped into tinier and tinier pieces with every person I fall for and therefore I can't love you as much as you love me or Noah as much as you love Shreyas?"

She looked away, probably seeing how this was going.

"Listen, I love you, and I want things to work between us. Really, I do. But I don't think it's fair to either of us to jump into this new world together when you can't leave the old world behind. He's not here anymore. I'm sick of being your second choice, May." I took off my promise ring and handed it to her. "You can give that back to me when it's a promise you're able to keep."

As I walked away, tears streaming down my cheeks, I remembered our first argument. That one had been about Shreyas too, though it was more about how she thought I'd ruined their relationship instead of him ruining ours. Still, I had walked away from her then, and I was walking away from her now. I was beginning to wonder if she had followed me, but I turned to see her kneeling on the ground, looking in despair at her hands.

I'm not an expert on these things, but I had a feeling that May and I just broke up.