Living in the past..... The first day of school....

Im often accused of "living in the past" if I mention past things. If anyone else mentions their "past,"or "the past," or "a past--" why,their just "remeniscing" But me? Im "living in the past" and Im supposed to drop it (mine) and forget about it. Meanwhile everyone elses past is highly signifigant and I better "learn from it" or "respect theirs more over my own" because of many differing reasons. A good example is this one---I recently told my ex wife that I had recently reconnected with an old Navy buddy on Facebook,and asked her if she remembered him,to which her reply was that she "left that life behind 25 years ago." A simple question,but her response was predictable,she was basically telling me to "quit living in the past." Meanwhile,on Facebook,she is reconnecting with all in her own past. Im to be ashamed of mine,hers was glorious. You get the picture.....But I never will forget the first day of school. Though I was born in Asheville NC on August 17th 1965, My mother and father found themselves living in Salisbury NC by the time this day came. I was 6 years old in September of 1971,and I was exited about going to school. I had a Snoopy Lunch Box. I knew I was to wait for bus number 112. My bus driver was a pretty brunette,a senior in high school,because in those days high school students drove the school buses. She was nice to me. Finding a seat was one of the first experiences I had with what I would come to know as, and we all know as----- ASSHOLES. The bus driver and this guy had me sit with him behind her as she drove. I was a little saddened but not really put out about it,I already knew that people and kids could be rather unfriendly,so I wasnt going to let it bother me. I was going to school!!!What an adventure!!!.......When I got to J.F. Hurley Elementary,I was greeted by my teacher and we settled into class. My last name begins with a "Y" ---"Young" By the end of the day,that first day of school I learned one thing.... I was always LAST.The end of the line. The "last in line," the last to do anything,the last to get to where we were going,the last to get what we were getting.....but the FIRST to know there was no one behind me. At the end of the school day...I was the last one.My place in this world,ever since then,is to be last.From that first day I was programmed to wait until all others got there before I did. I would always go to the back of the room,the back of the bus,wait til others ate,wait til others were served,wait til others had theirs. One day,it was in the 4th grade,someone mentioned that "Butch always has to be last,he never complains,maybe just for today,HE should be the first in line for lunch!!!" the teacher agreed,and let me be first in line. It was all I could do not to cry,but I held it in. It was so weird being the first in line.And soon my day was over. To this day,I still do this. I go to the back of the room,I wait for others,I stand off,I try not to get in the way. Now,understand this,Im not shy or am I quiet or introverted or unsocial because of it,In fact it made me realize I had to pipe up and toot my own horn,and with moving from school to school,place to place,I had to be a more socially aggressive person. But I never forgot that first day....the last one. It still haunts me to this day. I 'm still programmed in very dangerous ways because of it.My lack of a "career" or a life work shows this very well. Im always last.Im not hard to find. I remember the mothers of the other kids would bring only so much of the sweets,cookies and treats during that year,they only made enough for 22-25 kids,and only a few of the mothers would bring anything at all,mine NEVER did this,and when the goodies were passed out---in alphabetical order,of course--- there was nothing for me. I just smiled and said I understood in my own six year old way,but inside,I was deeply hurt,and,well I just had to accept it. I was already programmed to just let it go. I remember the silence that would fall,all eyes on me as everyone realized I only got crumbs...I think it wouldve been better had they went on and never noticed,because I dont they really gave a shit anyway...maybe a moment of thinking to themselves what a sad---or funny---situation I was in.....sometimes I think of this. When Im alone at work,when it comes crashing down and I remember just why I am the way I am. But then I should just stop living in the past........