I
still believe in the proverb I saw on a button. It read: If you love someone, set them free. The button ended in: if they don't come
back, hunt them down and kill them. The
first part is what I see an element of truth in. Every person is a different soul. As an individual, I recognize that every person I meet is a new
soul to me, and that my judgement is based on whom I have met before. I must admit that the stereotype is a part
of how I see others. I use the typecast
as a starting point and let the individual define the rest. I thought, then, that this is what everyone
else did. I was very wrong. In love, I was tragically wrong.
In
the entire time Jessica and I were falling for each other, seven months in all;
we never had an opportunity to see each other outside of school. This changed when the school had its
Halloween carnival. This was a time
when the entire last half of the school day was dedicated to allowing students
to roam around the many booths that were set up in the courtyard. Jessica's mother was running one of the
booths. No matter how much Jessica
disagreed, I decided to ask her mother if I could take her out for dinner. Sure, I was tweaked to the nipples at the
time, but no one could know. Jessica herself had no idea were my courage came
from. To a certain degree, neither did
I. So, I asked permission, and was
allowed the only real date I had in high school. I picked her up, and we had a fine meal, after which I had to
take her home. It was a pleasant hour
and a half.
The twist to this tale comes when, the
next day, I was arrested for statutory rape.
I was sitting on my car after school when the police came to get me. I
was quickly cuffed. Fifteen minutes
later, and I was in the League-city holding tank. I spent two hours there, until an officer came in and un-cuffed
me, stating that the charges against me had been dropped. I never knew what the charges were, until I
asked the officer freeing me from the bonds.
I walked outside, and the scene gave me all the information I needed,
even if I was never to hear the story.
There was Jessica, her father and mother, standing next to their
mini-van. I presumed that it was the
father who had put the fix on me. I
also deduced that it was Jessica who had convinced her father to drop the
charges. Maybe the emotion of the
moment got to me, but; as soon as I saw them, I made a b-line towards them, and
hit Jessica’s father as hard as I could.
It was a good thing that this blue-collar-career man did not see it
coming, because I laid him out.
Otherwise, it would have been my brutal murder. With a nasty stare to the one I loved, I
walked away, and headed back toward the school, were my car was waiting for
me. Once there, an hour or so later, I
took the biggest pull from my stash that was hidden under my car in a magnetic
key-holder box, a deep breathe, and lit a cigarette. The games with in this family were too much for me. As much as I wanted out, I wanted her
more. It would end up that she would do
more destruction than I ever could have believed. I demand to be believe the best in every situation, as it takes
just as much effort to foresee the best out-come as it does to see the
worst. To envision the worst, I
believe, takes more energy, for it leads to all sorts of nasty possibilities,
and paranoia. The positive has but only
one possibility: what you want the most.
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