The following writing was completed in under three hours, in the Springfield Perkins, table 14 to be exact, on the morning of 10/1/2000. Aside from spelling and other meaingless mistakes, all editing has been done in a lovely shade of pink, so you can better grasp the emotion of the scene. Keep in mind, while you read this, the state of mind I was in...depressed and under the influnce of first a large amount of adrenaline, and then caffine.
Tonight I did the single craziest, most impulsive thing I have ever done in my life--and keep in mind I got a tattoo instead of buying shoes one day. Before I get into the specifics, I had better give you a little background on the situation. I'm going to make what I can turn into a very long story, very short. Hang on, and keep all hands inside your irrational, adrenaline-influenced mind.
I love Nicole Moore. A lot. A guy I had been friends with in upwards of ten years thinks he feels the same. To make matters a little more tricky, Nicole still isn't totally over her last real boyfriend, who, yes that's right, is a close friend of all parties involved. Fucked from the get-go huh?
Well anyway, Nikki and myself had become the dreaded 'F' word (friends) in a big way; around this time, the decade-man was moving in for the kill, all while (I believe) knowing my intent.
We enter the scene shortly after all technical ties between Nicole and friend #2 had been severed (though looking back, possibly rekindled), and I (controled by extreme depression and a girl having talked herself into naivety) declared my love through an online conversation. I want exactly no shit about that either; it was unplanned and uncontrollable.
Having recieved every mixed signal in the book, from her saying I made her blush, smile, and get butterflies in her stomach, to that eerie lack of discussion about my declaration, to her saying her and the other guy were probably better off as friends, to that guy producing one hell of a shit-eating grin when I told him of my online blunders and her reaction, I was near the end of my rope. Tired of the constant inner arguing, the gossip, the speculation, and the ever-growing lines of questions, I guess I was begging to be inspired. Enter a friend whose emotional arguements, laced with well placed facts and observations, openned my eyes to the possibility of living a movie script.
He told me I should just go over and talk to the girl, then, at four in the morning. He told me it was sure-fire; I knew he was wrong. He told me I'd show some sort of confidence, and made jokes involving #2 being there and a dealing of a barrage of fisticuffs. I knew I wasn't confident, and I knew nothing would turn violent. We had discussed certain reasons, that will go unwritten, why one wasn't to be a fan of #2 earlier, so when he typed out the words "you owe it to her," I knew I was going to go. It's hard to be brave for selfish reasons, but when the scene is described in such selfless ways, how can one resist? We had of course worked out many things I was going to say to her. Also of course, I went on to stray from the game plan in a few key ways. I'd like to note that I did not walk to her house this crazy morning to save her from anything; I'm just saying that one line was solid gold.
Years ago I learned what it was like to live with regrets. For those of you out there who have always been brilliant, brave, and punctual, and have no regrets, know that they are no fun. Earlier, yesterday, I had concluded, to myself, that unrequited love was the second worst pain a body can feel, the first, as you may know, is getting stabbed in the back of the throat with a huge needle. Sitting at my computer, less than an hour before what I came to think of as my own personal D-Day, it occured to me, living with the regrets stemmed from the unchallenged apathy of a young maiden is much, much worse. If I didn't act, and act in a large way, would I travel back to school knowing I had done all that I could?
I smelled like syrup (I had worked until 2:30 a.m.), so I showered. I chose to walk to apartment. Yesterday, after waking at her house, I was coerced into accepting a ride home. She would hear nothing of me walking. I love all things that even resemble irony, which was my reason to walk. The weather was nice and I thought the walking might calm my nerves. That was the other reason. As you can imagine, my heart it was a-beating. I was about to walk into her home, explain to her in person that no one cared more for her, no one could treat her better than I, and oh yeah, I was completely in love with her. That takes balls; I don't care who you are.
The idea had been considered that He would be there. No, not God, I'm just capitalizing it so you know how to read it aloud. He might be there. My reaction to that occurance, if it indeed occured, was really just for the sports writers and those ESPN guys. It was never a competition for her between myself and any man. I knew that; others didn't. Though many times, admitedly, I was caught up in the spirit of competition, it was rarely actually acted on. To me, other guys (there were more than one) were petty, not because I was favored over them or anything along those lines, but because the steepest part of the mountain I was about to scale, making her see me as datable, and not just her friend, was the main concern. I had to take the love she had formed for me in that good ole plutonic way, tear it free, mold it to resemble the love I had for her, and replace it--all before she knew what was up.
My inspiration pointed out (in a less poetic way, lol), I had the best poker hand at the table; I just had to play my cards right. Later (though I hate to ruin the suspence) I would learn my hand wasn't enough to beat the dealer, but at the time, the game was still up in the air, at least in my mind. Besides, at the very most, I couldn't have been losing at anything I was interested in winning. People have different goals; a chess player never loses to a polevaulter.
So anyway, I showered, and started walking. Way too soon, I reached her apartment, nervous as hell, but under control, like a sophmore realizing what he has to do to pull the A in speech class. I noticed the TV on, and hoped she was already up and getting ready for work. Upon reaching the door, I see her sister's friends, and realize I'm going to have my own impromtu audience. They had just watched The Silence of the Lambs, and apparently, a shadowy figure softly knocking on the door shook them up a little. I found that funny.
Well I talk briefly to her sister, learn of the movie, and that Nicole is in her room. As I walk towards the door, I'm warned that she's not alone. The sister's known what's up for a while. She's good people, and not a lot gets past her.
"I know," I say, "well I didn't know, but I guess now I do." That made no sense, at least until I realized that I had always known he'd be over there.
I knocked on the door softly a couple times, until she came to answer. She always takes way too long to adjust to the non-dream world when she wakes up.
She immediatly thinks something is wrong; why else would I be there so early? I tell her I want to talk to her, if ti's OK, and direct her into another room--shutting the door on the darkness that had come to consume my old friend.
I just started talking, slowly, softly, making sure to make no ommitions.
I love her.
I care more about her than anyone else can.
I would treat her better than anyone else ever could.
She's quick to correct my off-handed comment about how it doesn't matter if I love her, and quick to address what I thought of as a non-issue for a couple of reasons--"It wasn't at all what it seemed." Those, I guess, are positives, but the mood in the room was as expected. I was going to leave that room with a friend.
She is now leading me somehow, and we're sitting on the bed. She's holding my hands, which is a sharp contrast to the morning before, when I had been holding her hand. We talk about that and more. She speaks of how confusing her life is--she's sincere and correct. I speak of how I had no intention of leaving town without laying down all of my cards. I make jokes in reference to the time and a conversation we had had about watching the sunrise. She talks of how hard it still is to see the old ex, friend numero uno. She speaks of everything still sinking in and how even though people tried to tell her, she never knew for sure, or believed, that I had fallen in love with her. I tell her I'm sneaky like that. "I move in stealth."
She spoke of, as I had predicted she would, how if we got together, I'd never be friends with what's his name anymore. I explained to her how there are many reasons for every choice I make, most of which surprisingly don't involve this little competition the media has created between me and #2. As we talk, I lose my stutter and she starts speaking at a normal speed.
She goes on to reject me, as of course was expected, but oddly enough, all is well--pretty much.
She asks me to hug her, and I tell her no. My heart may be broken, but I'd still like to keep it in my chest. I tell her how long it will take before I can look on her without wanting to tear my heart free of my mind--in the back of my mind, I know that even if I tear my heart free from it's anatomical neighbors, I will have to follow that up with a self-inflicted kick to the ass.
I look at her. Earlier she just looked tired (It was only 5:00) and thoughtful. Now she looked hurt. I'm not sure why I'd run off the mouth about not hugging her, because any amount of logic would have told me I'd never be able to, or want to, resist her friendship. So I hug her.
She puts her arm around me, hugs me tightly. That's like the twenty-seventh hug that day, seriously (I work in a hug-friendly environment), only that one lasted a little longer than the rest. It's still going on you know? Right this moment. It will be going on through the next moment too. Probably through the one after that.
That's when she tells me what every girl rejecting her friend must, only this time, strangely, you know the words originate in the center of her soul, having pulsed through her veins for a while.
"I love you Tom. I just don't think I love you like you love me."
I think we all saw that one coming. Come on, think about it, you did. Oh yeah, I already told you.
We hold each other for a while, not talking. At the time, I'm happy, and I tell her so. I must have been on some pheremone high, because five minutes later, well, I wasn't so happy.
I excuse myself from the room, make a foretelling comment about how I will confuse her sister, and don't turn back. I take the smile on my face, stretch it extra wide and joke with her sister about how she should be asleep. Doesn't she know what time it is?
By the end of the driveway, I'm had my first random thought about how she might come around. Those will go on for a while, but I am a university student--I'm sure I can find some distractions. Dirty Old Man says, "Hehehehe."
It occurs to me that I have some writing to do, so I go to my car, and so I wouldn't have to bother going in my house, I pick up an ink pen and a the yellow legal pad this was first written in at the local Hucks. Bad Company is on the radio, and yes I do.
I couldn't see the sun, but I watched it get light out. The guy at the table across from me was staring out my window. Maybe he was wishing he had a window seat, like me. His view may not have been as dramatic as mine, but we both saw the new day dawn. We'll both be alright.
A couple other servers I worked with last night were still here. They're cute together. I wonder if they know it. Hopefully they both do. Both.
Well, I didn't get the girl, and that sucks. I'm sure you all picked up on that. I did, as I told Nicole, achieve two goals however. I let her know I loved her, really Know it, and I learned a little something about overcoming fears. That's not all though; I learned people think you're weird when you buy a legal pad and pen at 5 in the morning, and then thank the cashier as you leave without your change. I also learned that people in Perkins are really good at knowing when you just need left alone.
I did learn some things that weren't so clear cut in meaning, or amusing. Watching day come, while in Perkins, reminded me of doing the same thing Prom night...well, the morning after. The same sort of thing was going on in my life then. Like hopefully you'll read later, He's always doing shit like this (God this time). I thought I had improved in many ways since then, though I'll be the first to admit this love thing is random. Better techniques, more gutsy honesty, same result. Does history always repeat itself? I'm very good friends with Prom Girl now. Does history always repeat itself? Do I want it to?
Who knows anymore? I won't know for a long time--long enough that I can see her and not see the girl who rejected me.
It will happen sometime though; we'll be friends. Hopefully as fast as with Prom Girl, because the time before that, when I tried to turn a friendship in to more didn't turn out as well, and took the better part of a year to heal--on my part at least. I am optimistic and I hold my head high.
She said she never wanted to lose me. For God's sake, it was 5 in the a.m., I wasn't someone she was going to lose, I was someone she couldn't get rid of.
I have not one single regret, and I am free from most of the grief I should be feeling--the extremely bad pain anyway, and I will heal fast because of that lack of regret and the hope it brings. I am also free from the weight that this whole situation had been placing squarely on my chest and I am free from the fear that it will drag on in worse ways through later months. I laid every ounce of my being on the line, and lost it all, but as I recharge my soul, I will be free. I just this very moment grasped the very tip of the meaning behind a classic Janis Joplin song I had never fully understood.
"Freedom's just another word for 'nothing left to lose.'"
If you want to read some seriously funny stuff about being attracted to friends (I had been reading it when I caved online), check out a link that has always, and Will Always be posted on my page. "I Just Want to Be Friends". Check out the "Do's and Don'ts." Thanks for baring with the length of this Rant, and as always, keep it real.--TA