Getting There

A Photo Paper Momento




“I only surround myself with those that I find intellectually stimulating.” -My Girl-









The three of us wear smiles to cover the hideous faces we sometimes even hide from each other, but mostly they’re the ones we hide from ourselves. Perhaps that’s the most dangerous thing we do, but, no, it’s not. I sometimes wish it were.

That’s Tori on the left, in the blue, carrying the purse with my photos cradled within. That purse could easily be the one thing that makes the two of us different, because it’s only that purse that certifies us as two different human beings, other than our DNA. Jen is on the right, in the black, carrying my heart in a suitcase she hides in her Wal-Mart locker while she works. Right now it’s back there, crowded in that locker, mingling with the smells of a stale cigarette air and leather jackets stuffed in 2x2 cubicles. Of course, she’s unaware that she’s been nominated as the new owner. Tis me in the middle, between the two people I now know I can always count on in life and death and everything in between. It’s me wearing yet another fake smile to match those around me, but with their arms around me, it’s the most genuine it’s been in a while. But is that all there is? Is it just three miserable little girls finding solace within the embrace of old friends? No, there’s so much more. So much more than even I can describe, but I can try.

What I see:

I see Tori. I see a beautiful brown-eyed eighteen-year-old girl who is finding herself in a way I never believed in before her. I see a brave woman fighting for a life she wants to live, but sometimes is afraid to. I see Victoria Mankin, known to those who Love her, and those she Loves, as Tori. But when I see Tori, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Sometimes I think I can see inside her, deep into her soul, into what makes her tick. I see the late conversations that the two of us used to be able to partake in, the scary drives out to the site where all our fears and self-loathing came out, the midnite trips to Wal-Mart, and the lunch excursions to Wendy’s. I see our past, and I see our present, and sometimes, when we think about it enough, we can see our future.

~*..*~

Tori and I met in the sixth grade when I was forced to sit at the lunch table with her and her then best friend, Holly. I was frightened beyond all knowing. Tori and Holly were inseparable, and they made that known. I was just an outcast that could be cast aside at any given moment, and I was. We became simple acquaintances that could say hi to each other in the hallway if we really felt the need, but most often we didn’t get that urge. By the time we reached high school we had mutual friends and our paths crossed a few times more than either of us ever imagined would make a difference. By the end of freshman year we were slightly more than just acquaintances only because we had to deal with each other more than we used to. We became concert buddies, and then, somehow, friends.

How the mutation truly happened, I really haven’t a clue, but I know I went from pretty much despising and fearing her to nearly worshipping the very ground she walked on. We weren’t the friends you saw walking in the hallway sharing the latest gossip. We were the latent friends that shared gossip over the telephone wires that crossed our town. Eventually, we became the friends that some confused as Lovers, and we really didn’t care enough to correct it. We still don’t.

So, that was our past.

Now we’re still confused as Lovers, and still we don’t care enough to correct it. Now we’re separated by 200 miles of a long stretch of interstate neither of us have the time, patience, nor money to deal with on an every day or even weekly basis. We converse over the phone wires that first connected us, but mostly we type back and forth over the inanimate machine that’s been the cause of many a heartbreak, but also, many a discovery. I never thought it possible that a computer could allow people to find themselves. To tell you the truth, I’ve always thought the whole finding yourself thing was a load of proverbial bull shit. But now, I’m beginning to understand. Without going into the intricacies of it all, let me just say that Tori has finally found herself in a place on-line. She’s discovered more about herself with these people who live thousands of miles away than we ever could have done on a midnite drive to Wal-Mart or the site. I am eternally thankful, and yes, jealous, but mostly thankful.

So she’s beginning to understand and Love herself with the help of these people, and perhaps, sometimes even me. But I know, sometimes, that’s just not enough. I can feel it over the lines at times, even in my dreams if it’s been a bad nite. I can sense she’s went for her knives or the pills that were so often her friends in times of need. I can tell she’s afraid. We both are. Of what? That is a very good question- most likely a question neither one of us could answer for ourselves, but could answer for the other, and in the end, I could bet they’re going to be the same answers. That’s why I can say we’re basically the same person, give or take a purse.

Tori is scared because of life, because she doesn’t know what life is going to give her, and she’s scared that it’s not going to give her what she wants. What is that? Tori wants to go to law school. (This is where the purse comes in for those that aren’t following.) She wants to transfer to Tulane and become the hotshot lawyer that the small town of Marion can admire from afar, and that her mother can be proud of- that her absentee father can recognize. She wants to be a mother someday. I know she will be perfect. But she never wants to marry. She’s the mistress that I fear. And that’s where our future comes into play.

We’ve already got it all planned out, right down to the color scheme of the upstairs bathroom. It’s funny, we decided long ago what our future was to be, and even after all this turmoil- after her finding herself and me losing mine, our future remains stable in our minds. It may seem like a joke to some, but we know our seriousness when we speak of it.

She’ll make the money because I’ll be the starving artist, so we’ll live in her mansion. I’ll have the family, but she’ll be Auntie Tori, and most likely the mistress to any man I can get to say “I do.” I’ll pay her back when I write my first best-seller or take the Pulitzer Prize winning photograph, and we’ll live happily ever after.

So that’s what I see when I look at Tori in this photograph. I see our past, our present, and our futures- together.

~*..*~

I see Jen. I see a shining blue-eyed nineteen-year-old girl fighting for a life she never thought she wanted to live until recently. I see a courageous woman who holds my heart in her hand, along with the souls of many whom she has touched along the way. I see Jennifer Lynn Owings, known to those whom she Loves, and those who Love her, as Jen. But I can see so much more than this exterior that she lets everyone else see. I can see Jen, with all the bad, and all the good, and all the in between. I can see her for who she is, even if at times she’s not sure who that is. Mostly, what I see when I look into those beautiful blue eyes though, is the past, the present, and the future that we will always share.

~*..*~

We barely met our fifth grade year. We were both in the accelerated classes, but were separated by core teachers that I think somehow even knew back then we would be inseparable once we met. I’m not really positive how we came together actually. It was kismet. It just happened. And we were- inseparable that is. Neither of us had ever gotten into any trouble before we met, but once that bond was made we were getting yelled at by Mrs. Chin at least every other class period. After that it was only a matter of time before we shared a probation officer. (It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds.)

When high school came a’knocking on our door I think we drifted a little. I know I did. But we drifted back together by sophomore year and once again, were the inseparable pair. She was the smart-ass quiet one and I was the “I’ll kick your ass” shy one. We made a great pair. Where there was one, there was always the other. If there wasn’t, it would never fail that someone would ask where the other one was. That brings us to now.

We’re not as together now, not as much as we would like. She was admitted to the Grant-Blackford Mental Health Clinic at home about two weeks ago and her doctor asked her what she wanted. Her answer, “Talia.” I didn’t quite know what to say when she told me that. All I could do was hold her close and try to hold back the tears because I thought I needed to be strong for her. I was wrong. We need to be strong for each other. We both cried that nite, like we usually do in each other’s company as of late. We cried and told one another that it was going to be alright, that things were going to work out. I’m not sure who we were trying to convince more- ourselves, or the one we Loved sitting next to us.

Jennifer has been diagnosed as bi-polar. I would Love to try and explain it to those of you that don't know what it is, but I’m terribly afraid that I’m severely underqualified. She’s manic-depressive, something I never thought of on those afternoons when we would sit in the hallway and one minute she would be jumping for joy and the next plotting the serial murder of local teachers. (They were just jokes, don’t take them too seriously.) Lately, we’ve been able to talk about it more. She’s telling me more than she’s ever trusted in me before, and I Love her so much for that. I think I’m just about the only one she can confide in right now, and we both depend on that.

Jennifer and I are unsure of our futures together. We like to plan-laughingly talking about publishing our own zine and putting Rolling Stone to shame. But mostly, it’s just talk. Right now, we’re too caught up in our own presents to even dream about the future. We just want to live for today- or at least get through it.

That’s what I see when I look into her smile in the photograph before me. I see what we’ve lived through, what we’re living through now, and possibly, someday, what we might get to.

~*..*~

I see myself. But what do I see when I look into my own eyes? I see Tori and Jennifer. There’s a little glimpse of me back in the back corner behind all the black eyeliner and red hair dye. She’s slowly coming out to be seen, bust mostly, I see Tori and Jen. They make me who I am. When I look at that photograph, I grimace when I see myself. But, when I try to look closer, I see how happy I am with the two of them.

I see our pasts together-

With Tori I can see the piercing sprees and how I went to her first day of classes at IUK and thought of how all those people just reminded me of Pleasantville because of their normalcy. I see Mrs. Bridgeman sitting me with her and Holly in the fifth grade and how harshly they treated me because I wasn’t part of the crowd. I see the first time we went to see a concert, Bush, together at Market Square Arena because Katy’s mom wouldn’t let her go on a school nite, and I remember how that was the beginning of our present friendship. I see the endless nites of phone conversations between the two of us where she would tell me how she was like the mother to all her friends and how she was tired of acting like the mother bee, and how I was different because I didn’t always call for advice- this time, with me, she could get the advice instead of give it. I see the two of us discovering Sarah together, at the Murat, and I can see the tears in her eyes when she sang her song, and it reminded her of Andy. I see the countless many nites we attempted to drive out to the site but turned around because somehow we knew the “devil-worshipers” were out there, and we would get caught and eaten by them- or something like that. I see the photographs she posed for and how shy she was when she did. I see her innocence, even though she doesn’t let many people see it. I see her frailty, and her vulnerability, but most of all, I see her strength, because she’s still living- against all the odds. I see her.

With Jen I see a relationship sprung from nowhere but grown from pure Love and enjoyment of company. I see the friendship we’ve refused to let die. I see the time when she met Jake, and she told me, “He’s a good guy Talia, keep him.” I see the one nite at the park when we finally embraced and told the truth, because we’d been hiding from it for so long. I see the many nites we’ve spent at the park since, telling each other truths, and embracing in the dim lite of the full moon or the street lites. I see the time when we attempted to escape the police officers delivering bad messages to our parents, and I see the numerous times we got into trouble for talking- and we were the quiet ones. I see when she gave me an idea, the idea to be me and not let someone else run my life, and I see how I took it, and thank her for it. I see the times I’ve let her down. I see the look on her face the first time I found a baseball bat hidden under her bed, and I see the tears falling and the fear when she tried to tell me why it was there. I see the airport on the day we picked Oli up and her anticipation and eagerness to meet the boy she’d been talking to on-line for two years. I see her tears. I see the entirety of last year- a year I tried to forget because the cuts on her arms will never go away, and I see those cuts like they were made yesterday. I see the railroad track she almost died on, and I see her. That’s what I see. I see Jennifer. I see a woman that I have Loved since I met her, and I see her Love. Mostly, that’s what I see. Her Love, her passion, her strength, because she too is living, against all odds.

I see our presents.

I see Tori and I finding a happy medium with her life and my acceptance of it.

I see Jen and I discovering our selves with and within each other.

I see our futures-

as bleak or as perfect as they may be.

So, that’s what I see. But, just because that’s what I see doesn’t mean, that’s who we are. We aren’t our pasts, our presents, or our futures. We are women. We are women who are constantly changing everyday of our lives into beings we’re still trying to understand. And because of that- there’s no ending here. What I see in this photograph will change everyday for me. Everyday I talk to Jen or see Tori, I will see something new in this picture- a new scene, a new memory, a new day. Everyday those smiles become more genuine, because everyday we live is a sign that we’re actually happy, or getting there- and that’s what counts.

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