Closing in, closing out, breaking down

Something is about to happen to me. It’s actually been happening for more than five years now. But now it’s really about to happen. I don’t even want to talk about it right now. However, I happened to read this today and it scared the color right out of the hair above my ears (or maybe that was happening already).

What I craved was simple: conversation. I didn’t care whether it was with jocks, dorks, hippies, frat guys, sorority belles, math nerds, longhaired granola chicks, airheads, rockers, preps, druggies or losers. I just wanted someone — anyone — to approach me and talk to me as a peer, an equal, a member of the collegiate clan. I didn’t want to be addressed as “sir.” I didn’t want to hear questions about what a guy like me was doing in a place like this. I wanted to fly under the radar, to be seen, acknowledged, spoken to and accepted.

Click here to read the whole horrifying account.

And pray for me.