Chapter 3 - Glass Window

A while after the accident I was with my best friend Jeremy, and we were with a few other people at our friend Julian’s apartment. My memory in general is pretty bad but I think this was the first time I had been there. I only mention this because I typically have very good memory of the physical spaces where I’ve been. I can remember the layout from a hotel we stayed at in Asilomar California once back when I was probably no older than 12. In conjunction with this, I typically had very good spatial awareness. Well, as it turns out, if you’re in a bunch of painkillers for the muscles in your neck, then you smoke weed, all while your head is locked in one position from the neck brace you’re wearing, all that spatial awareness and memory of space goes right out the window… Speaking of that, at some point while we were hanging out I stood up, most likely because I felt like, maybe, if I didn’t move or change positions, people would detect how uncomfortable I was, as if that makes sense. In my awkward swaying about I failed to notice the vase on the ground behind me. It wasn’t long before I had tripped backwards over the vase, with my legs taking those last quick desperate steps trying to get back under my center of gravity, all with the grace of a penguin running backwards. Try as they might, my legs were not able to save me, but instead propelled me backwards straight through the front window of his apartment. Luckily for me the blinds or the screen or just dumb luck saved me from falling all the way out of the window. I was too fucked up to really process what was going on. I was aware that I just fell and I just broken a window, but the concept of personal responsibility had either not developed or was entirely not present at that moment. Thinking back, I don’t think I ever took responsibility with his parents or paid for the window. I’m definitely not proud of who I was. In the end, I walked away from the incident with a few scratches on my back and my ego knocked down another few pegs.