Dead Friends From School

Just found out a school friend died of a heart attack at a rugby game - way back in 2008! So we weren't that close obviously. We were in the same classes through school and I would always beat him in every test, no matter how hard he tried - and it infuriated him. Drifted apart when it became clear I got my kicks from being naughty and taking shit and he was a 'responsible leader' or whatever that was.

He was the total straight arrow, I remember having an argument with him and he walked away because I wanted to go out and get drunk and lie about going to the movies (as 14 year old alcoholics do) and he just wanted to actually watch the surfing movie and then go home - like a normal person. We had a stand off and pushed each other, I held him down, but nothing happened. We didn't go to the beach together any more.

Later on he made partner at an accounting firm and was best man at all these weddings and played 1000 games of rugby and was the club president or something. I was sneaking around getting drunk, being anonymous, being a lone wolf.

Oh well, he's dead now - I get this curious feeling and want to stick my finger up at him for some reason. That feeling of rejection from him when I wanted him to come along and be drunk and his strength to say no, or back then it was probably just a stupid risky idea and he was being sensible. Like finishing his degree and being a suit and joining clubs and being a team player.

But that's not me, never comfortable with that fawning adoration of people I hardly know in teams and stuff.

So awful as it sounds, I feel sort of vindicated - me at the start of a lifelong recovery compared to safe-white-bread-athlete-accountant rotting under some rocks in the ground. Hmm, don't know if that is right but it's definitely the feeling I have.


  1. Ok, FWIW, here's what I think: He went off and did the "sensible" safe-white-bread WASP-ish life with the endless weddings and sucking up to the boss and getting his agro out on the rugby field. He was probably miserable in his buttoned-down life. You did the pissing on the side of houses and being drunk at 10am thing, and you were miserable in your life.

    Rugby isn't safe. It is a dangerous game and has a high change of serious injury or death...not unlike the serious drinking you were engaged in. You happened to be the lucky one who survived the dangerous activity of choice.

    So I guess you can feel vindicated in that his choices didn't end up any safer than yours. And you decided to stop before you bought it.

  2. I am really liking to be able to read honest feelings about this subject. I have friends from school. We weren't in touch until recently, I am 47. I get upset that there are some that went to a certain pub, and I didn't get to meet them at the time because I wasn't there. They are friends of my friends and we met via facebook. I was a straight arrow, but nothing turned out, I was a straight arrow with wildish parents who were buttoned down but decided to live a little but still they worked hard. I ended up with two sets of parents actually. I still have a hard working husband and things are straigtish, but the glory I am not after. I didn't get to go to uni or have a great job, should go back there now. I'm thinking maybe it is nice to have the time to spend with my new friends. I was so busy when my 5 kids were little. Long story. But I appreciate being able to come here and read about how you felt/feel.

  3. @ Sharon - Yeah I guess I'm saying I went and "partied" and he went and studied and he died young and I'm still here to laugh about how capricious and whimsical life and death is - regardless of how fearfully you plan a long game strategy, it can still unfold and fuck up right in front of your face. Yeah, is a reminder we are all just a moment or two away from death - not that this is an excuse to rush off and crack open a bottle of whatever...

    @ Linda - thanks for your thoughts, I am being honest and I guess vulnerable to your responses so it is great to be appreciate for being frank and candid. (I'm Frank, she's Candid lol).


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