Art of the found object

I hate cleaning my room. I especially hate cleaning my room at my parents' house because that just means I'm throwing stuff out. And every time I try to do that, I pick something up that I have no use for but just can't throw out. Rinse, repeat.

Rinse.

Repeat.

So, today I was doing some light cleaning. Nothing crazy, just the piles of mail that my parents create in my absense, but in the bottom of one of the boxes, I found the program to Mike Benjamin's senior recital.

That means nothing to you, does it? Mike lived 2 doors down from me freshman year. Jo, Jay, 'n' me, then Quincy and Saffy, then Mike and Nick. During orientation, Mike sat cross-legged in the hall holding a quarter and told us that when he dropped it, that would mean he'd hypnotized himself. He insisted that the care packages the school provided all the dorm residents came with condoms - which none of the rest of us ever saw. He used to peer between my door and the frame to say hi, which scared the crap out of Jo. And maybe we weren't friends, but everyone knew him. Even Celeste - who only came down for a summer internship - knew who Mike was by the end of the summer. And whenever I saw him, we could talk. He was a Music Education major, and I don't think life has been too kind to him since graduation. The last I heard, he was working at Staples.

He spent weeks trying to convince anyone who would listen to come to his senior recital, but I knew no one would go. He made announcements in marching band. He sent out mass emails. He brought it up at the bar. No one was going to go. It was scheduled for the day after the last football game. The night before the game, I went to dinner with Mike, Jessica, and Ben. We had all lived on the same hall freshman year but grown apart since. He practically begged us to go, and Ben and I agreed.

Except we broke up the next day. On the bus back from the football field and in the alcove in the music building where we used to eat our lunch. And the parking lot outside his dorm, until I promised him we'd see each other again. But not that weekend. We would not go to Mike's recital.

I went home to find that Dee and Dave had broken up (again). Our other roommates were out. Matty had stopped by the game after taking the GREs, so I called and he came over...and told me that when I felt like not being single anymore he knew a guy...named Matty.

The next morning, my roommate raced me to the phone, saying I'd better ask Matt out before she did. So I called him again and invited him to the first thing that came to mind. Mike's recital.

I don't think Mike knew we were together or even that Ben and I had broken up the day before. We said hi, wished him good luck, and spent an hour or so fidgeting on folding chairs, holding hands, worrying that Ben would show up. I know we spent the whole day together, and it must have been wonderful, but the rest of the date is a blur.

I don't know how many movie tickets I've thrown out. I'm not sure where all the valentines and birthday cards have gone. But somewhere in my room, there's a blue sheet of paper I probably should have thrown out years ago, and the next time I find it, I'll be just as happy as I am now.