Welcome to the island of misfit toys.

I wonder what it will be like when I leave this place.

I guess when you see somebody in the hallway or on the field or something, it's nice to know that they are a real person.

And I could see this boy doing his homework and thinking about my sister naked. And I could see them holding hands at football games that they do not watch. And I could see this boy throwing up in the bushes at a party house. And I could see my sister putting up with it. And I felt very bad for both of them.

Most of the people I know who were raised to be accommodating or were raised to just be nice and put everybody's needs ahead of theirs, there comes a moment when the pressure builds and they can't do it anymore. They have needs and they feel neglected and they usually explode.

But in that moment when my brother took the field, all that washed away, and everyone was proud... I looked up at my dad, and he was smiling. I looked at my mom, and she was smiling even though she was nervous about my brother getting hurt, which was strange because it was a VCR tape of an old game, and she knew he didn't get hurt.

And later that night to be with my family at dinnertime and have things just be like they always were. That was the amazing part. Things just keep going. We didn't talk about anything heavy or light. We were just there together. And that was enough.