DEAN MILLER
(THIS ARTICLE WAS WRITTEN UNDER HEAVY DISGUISE TO PROTECT THE PRIVATE LIFE OF ANOTHER PERSON(S). NAMES AND PLACES HAVE BEEN CHANGE.)
Lately I’ve been thinking about my alma mater. I don’t know why. I guess when you’re working and everything, your mind just starts to remember things. I guess.
I attended the alumni theatre practice yesterday night. Feeling tired and all after a 15 minutes bus ride, I made my way to the penthouse, where the practice was going to be held at. Nobody was there when I got to the penthouse and I was already feeling frustrated. My friend, whose house I slept at whenever I felt like it was too late to go back home, was not back from his holiday with family. So I made a few calls to my other friends, who were living in the area, telling them that I needed a place to sleep. A friend of mine offered a place to stay. He lived in one of those apartments for students not far from Columbia U.
Anyway, the theatre practice ended pretty late. Some of us didn’t even memorize our lines yet despite the fact that it was going to be opened in three weeks time. I got really irritated. The director told us to stay back even though he knew that some of us had to work the next day. Thank God some of them made an effort to get a sumptuous supper. So we ate and smoke and well, practice.
When I arrived at my friend’s place it was already 2.00am and he told me earlier that it’s kind of hard for outsiders to come in after 12.00. The taxi stopped me in front of the apartment and I made my way, casually and nonchalantly I must say, to his room.
His room was one of those small student rooms made for three people. He was reading a novel when I got in.
Dean Adams was one of those people who came from a very traditional family. You know, the New England bred, went to boarding school, got into an Ivy League and engaged to a WASP.
We did meet much after we left our boarding school. Many of us including him and me went separate ways. Betraying promises that we made when we said our goodbyes. The only memory of him that I had was a Goo Goo Dolls tape that he gave me on our last day. Sad, I know.
Anyway, we met again a few months back at a dinner organized by my batch members. Instantly we clicked and it was kind of surreal. As if it was only yesterday that we left Miller (that’s the name of the school by the way).
So we started talking about Miller and all and the things that we missed the most, our ‘brothers’ (a concept which I shall explain later), life at Miller and well basically everything. It was hard for us when we left Miller, as nobody knew exactly how we felt. Miller was an all-boys boarding school in Massachusetts. We spend 5 years there, entered the school and 13 and left when we were 17. I’m sure you could imagine the role that this school played in our life. Imagine spending 1/4 of your life (well I’m only 22) with a bunch of people day in day out.
Anyway, when he told me about his 'brother', I never knew that side of him. Back at Miller, we didn’t spend that much time together. He was of course in most of my classes when we were 16 and 17, but we didn’t talk much. He was busy with his brother and I was busy with debate. He described his brother and the time they spend together and the things they did and all with such passion. I was kind of sad because I didn’t get the chance to get to know this side of him.
I guess there were many things that he wanted to tell me but just couldn’t say it. It was really difficult for him to talk to people about this. Plus he was getting married soon and he just needed someone to know this side of him before he put this behind him forever.
Some people live their life with secrets that only they know. Secrets so precious that telling anybody would only diminish the magic that it contains.
Lately I’ve been thinking about my alma mater. I don’t know why. I guess when you’re working and everything, your mind just starts to remember things. I guess.
I attended the alumni theatre practice yesterday night. Feeling tired and all after a 15 minutes bus ride, I made my way to the penthouse, where the practice was going to be held at. Nobody was there when I got to the penthouse and I was already feeling frustrated. My friend, whose house I slept at whenever I felt like it was too late to go back home, was not back from his holiday with family. So I made a few calls to my other friends, who were living in the area, telling them that I needed a place to sleep. A friend of mine offered a place to stay. He lived in one of those apartments for students not far from Columbia U.
Anyway, the theatre practice ended pretty late. Some of us didn’t even memorize our lines yet despite the fact that it was going to be opened in three weeks time. I got really irritated. The director told us to stay back even though he knew that some of us had to work the next day. Thank God some of them made an effort to get a sumptuous supper. So we ate and smoke and well, practice.
When I arrived at my friend’s place it was already 2.00am and he told me earlier that it’s kind of hard for outsiders to come in after 12.00. The taxi stopped me in front of the apartment and I made my way, casually and nonchalantly I must say, to his room.
His room was one of those small student rooms made for three people. He was reading a novel when I got in.
Dean Adams was one of those people who came from a very traditional family. You know, the New England bred, went to boarding school, got into an Ivy League and engaged to a WASP.
We did meet much after we left our boarding school. Many of us including him and me went separate ways. Betraying promises that we made when we said our goodbyes. The only memory of him that I had was a Goo Goo Dolls tape that he gave me on our last day. Sad, I know.
Anyway, we met again a few months back at a dinner organized by my batch members. Instantly we clicked and it was kind of surreal. As if it was only yesterday that we left Miller (that’s the name of the school by the way).
So we started talking about Miller and all and the things that we missed the most, our ‘brothers’ (a concept which I shall explain later), life at Miller and well basically everything. It was hard for us when we left Miller, as nobody knew exactly how we felt. Miller was an all-boys boarding school in Massachusetts. We spend 5 years there, entered the school and 13 and left when we were 17. I’m sure you could imagine the role that this school played in our life. Imagine spending 1/4 of your life (well I’m only 22) with a bunch of people day in day out.
Anyway, when he told me about his 'brother', I never knew that side of him. Back at Miller, we didn’t spend that much time together. He was of course in most of my classes when we were 16 and 17, but we didn’t talk much. He was busy with his brother and I was busy with debate. He described his brother and the time they spend together and the things they did and all with such passion. I was kind of sad because I didn’t get the chance to get to know this side of him.
I guess there were many things that he wanted to tell me but just couldn’t say it. It was really difficult for him to talk to people about this. Plus he was getting married soon and he just needed someone to know this side of him before he put this behind him forever.
Some people live their life with secrets that only they know. Secrets so precious that telling anybody would only diminish the magic that it contains.