the triangle and me. part 1

* names, places have been changed, and some of the blanks have been filled in, graphic language, situations, and things that might be considered offensive will be in the following story, so if any of it offends you, please feel free to not read*

the room to my dorm room was always open, as long as i was awake, and that just happened to be most of the time. the weekends always were filled with interesting stories, crisis situations, and various bits of drama.
when i got to college i was rather naive to what the rest of the world had to offer. i was coming off the heals of one of the worst times of my life, college was my way to escape, and to consume myself with all things not of my life.
i'm still amazed i didn't get into drinking or drugs, because truly the need to escape was so alluring, so tantalizing, that i needed to consume my every waking moment, and that i did that with out some sort of substance, still amazes me.
i learned that doing things, letting things consume my time were just as addictive as crack, or alcohol, just not as sexy.
and so being a resident assistant was all part of my drug. my drug to escape from the reality of my world, and my agonizing pain.
i spent hours upon hours dealing with the pain of others, and somehow it all made mine not seem as bad.
because, let me tell you that when you honestly look at the life of someone else, the problems, the issues, the pain, your life in comparison seems pretty easy. this is what i call mercy. we should be able to see pain in others, even the ones who hide their pain really well.
because life, as i've known it is full of pain. and we must, in order to understand one another and in order to love one another, know and recognize the pain.
i sat in my dorm room one saturday night, awaiting the next hour to get there, so that i could take a break from studying my complex theory notes, and walk the building.
i had david bowie on, this was not unusual, just part of my college soundtrack, and bowie and i became good friends in the late nights of my college days.
it had to be midnight when linda came into my room. most of my residents didn't bother to knock on my door, they usually just came in, and sat down on the floor.
linda was no different. she was a simple kind of girl, who never said too much. she didn't wear much make up, or seem to concerned with fashion. she was not very talkative, but from what i knew of her, she seemed the shy type anyway. i always found the way my residents decorated their rooms to be the most telling of their personality. and linda was no exception to this rule. on her side of the room were posters of various punk bands, and a multitude of concert tickets tacked up to the wall with that blue sticky stuff. her sheets were kids sheets, moons and stars, and a big moon pillow that was a faded yellow. most of the time, when i went around to visit my residents, linda was propped up against the moon pillow, with headphones on, and reading a book. and if she saw me pass her door, most of the times, she would look up from her book she was consumed in, and take her ear phones off, and say a quick hello.
aside from these breif moments, we didn't have much interaction. it wasn't because of lack of effort on my part, it was just that she was the shy, to herself type, and generally i left those personalities to themselves, because i found they really didn't want to be bothered much.
so on the night linda came into my dorm room, i knew it was going to be something significant she wanted to talk about, because this was not someone who just came by to chat.
linda walked into my room, sat down on the floor, and i threw her a pillow.
"hey linda, how's it going?"
"i came because i need to talk to someone, and you have that sticker on your door, that triangle one, and, well, i need to talk, i need help."
and this is what would start a conversation that would open my eyes to a pain and truth and a world, which prior i had no idea about.

continue reading... part 2