My new run is a small bus. I drive to Orient Point every day, two times a day. For people who don't know Long Island, Orient Point is the very end of Long Island, on the North Fork. It's about 75 miles away from my house, and maybe 60 away from the bus yard. There is one kid on the route, an autistic kid who doesn't speak.
I went from being the hero, the role model, the "big brother" of 60 kids to a nobody, who drives a bus on a long, beautiful and peaceful route. I spend 7 hours a day driving, most with no noise. No kids excited to see me. No kids talking to me who need direction from the parents they don't have. No kids asking me to help them with their homework. No kids asking me to read them stories. No girls asking me what types of dudes to stay away from. No dudes asking me how to get over girls. Nothing.
Seriously, I'm in pain. I've lost my family. It breaks my heart. THe more I think about it, the more I want to fucking cry about it.
For some of these kids, I was the only fucking person who believed in them. I was the only fucking person who cared about their day. For some kids, I helped them see the silver lining in the clouds.
I'm trying not to think about it man. I have to just forget it. But you watch these kids grow up, and you never see them again, and then it's like being punched in the stomach every time you think about it.
I wish I could fight it. I really do. I told my boss, let me speak with the principal, let me speak with the school board, let me speak with the parents. I understand though. She's a business woman. This isn't good for her business. She's gotta do what they want.
So now, I get to spend 7 hours a day driving in the peaceful countryside of Long Island. "Wine country" as they call it. North of the Hamptons. It's beautiful. But it's just me. And nobody else.
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