Grilled Cheese

It started Senior Year, when days were long and the future was a distant blur that really didn't have anything to do with us. Did it?

We were restless, thinking we were ready to Get The Hell Out. In an attempt to break the monotony, we organized GCW.

From the back of our Senior Class President's pickup, we grilled cheese sandwiches at lunch in the parking lot. We called it 'Grilled Cheese Wednesdays' and talk of the event would begin Monday, wondering if anyone would bring tomato soup or cookies to share. The bell would ring for lunch and we would race out to Jake's truck, calling "Me next!" as he stood hunched over his camping stove, flipping white bread and singing along to Weezer, until the bread bled golden from the butter and cheese.

It was a time when "we" was clearly defined. Before we broke out and nearly drowned in the tides of college, trying to define ourselves without the others. It was a hard first year without our community, our ritual days where we would return to class with grease on our hands and "Buddy Holly" still ringing in our ears.

But somehow we managed. And now I can't help but remember with GWC with a twinge of nostalgia, and wonder if we really understood that those days were the last of their kind. A beautiful testiment to our love for each other, and the end of an era.

Funny how a sandwich can make you feel so many things.