Misc.

I thought, originally, that I should try to make this more informative, but on further reflection, I’ll do whatever the hell I feel like. What I feel like happens to be several separate stories. If you get bored with one, feel free to skip to the next.

I find it somewhat amusing that none of you will ever find/see/know me personally, yet you get given bits of information no one else comes close to knowing.

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This requires some background prep, so deal with the length.

Early in high school, before I got hit by a braces->stress->acne combo, I used to be constantly faced with the dilemma of several sets of girls, mostly younger, that treated me somewhat like they were crazed teenage girls and I was a hot male celebrity. I’m not joking… they would write my intials all over their arms, listen attentively to everything I said, whether they were in the conversation or not, and keep things that I ever wore, to name a few examples. I remember one time that I had some beads on for about an hour, and threw them away when I was done wearing them. One girl fished them out of the garbage, and she fought with the rest over them until they agreed to divide them equally. One of them showed me years later that she still had her share, and told me that all the other girls did too. Why me? I have no idea.

Of course I had no idea what to make of or how to deal with this. At this point in my life, I’d never dated a girl or even been kissed, though I can’t say why, really. As for my fan club, I was nice enough to them (sometimes), though, but mostly I tried to avoid it. I tried being mean to some for a while as an experiment (I respected people much less then and was sometimes eager to experiment on them), but that didn’t really work. In hindsight, I really don’t think there was a good way to deal with the situation.

Now the important part. Amidst all these other girls who were, to say the least, obsessed, were a few that had crushes and weren’t so enthusiastic and were reasonably cool. Unfortunately for them, I had little chance to discover that. One in particular, a Pakistani girl (no accent), I tended to treat just as mean as I did the others at the time, and for a period of time she hated me for it. Eventually, I recognized that she was pretty cool, and resumed relations with her. Her period of hating me expired, and along with it went her unreasonable crush. My junior and senior years we became close friends. I’d often hang out with her, her best friend (who was on drumline with me), and sometimes her best friend’s little sister, as a group. We all had a comfortable air around each other, they’d lay on me, etc., and it was not a big deal, nothing sexual. I certainly didn’t mind having a couple of girls that were pretty hot [note: physical compliments from me are not loosely used] doing that. She made me laugh more than any other girl I knew, and she told me lots of her secrets.

So I grew to care for her very deeply, and as she got older, she turned out to be downright gorgeous. This was never really a problem for me, since we had been so close for such a long time, and any physical attraction was just… not tempting. This was not unusual for me, I had an abnormal amount of close platonic female friends, and, unlike most all guys I knew, was not secretly trying to get into their pants. I counseled her through several boyfriends and resulting heartbreaks and all was great. We were separated by distance when I left for college, as was the case with many of my friends, but I maintained realtionships over the summer when I returned home. One of these summers found us unexplainably making out, for one night only. I didn’t treat it lightly, like it didn’t matter, but it wasn’t really that big of a deal either. Since then, she would tease me about how I thought she was soooo hot, how I wanted her so badly. It made for a funny running joke, and with how confident she naturally was, it fit right in. A year later I found myself making out with her again, this time (of all places) in the aforementioned best friend’s bed. These times only served to bring us closer together… it felt more like a natural expression of our deep connection to one another rather than a physical or romantic attraction, something really unique that I haven’t had with anyone else. We didn’t really tell many people about it, and referred to it with each other as our “annual event.” I mean, I really cared for this girl, her happiness was extremely important to me.

When I saw her again over spring break, she was spending the night at my house, as she often had. She kept joking around that I wanted to make out with her sooo bad and push up the annual event, and kept lying on top of me and pursing her lips really awkwardly in front of my face. It was funny to both of us how embarassed she was making me, and also that it was partially true. I mean… she is extremely pretty, and dead sexy… what do you expect? I didn’t make a move or anything, mostly, even though I knew it was a half-joke and she probably would’ve kissed me if I had asked her too. I kissed her simply after telling her goodbye, and told her I loved her (as I often had) and it was very true: I would do virutally anything for her.

A couple of days after I returned to school, she sent me an instant message saying that there was a problem: she missed me, and not in the way she usually did. She said that she had thought about it a bunch, and that maybe I was what she was looking for right now. I didn’t really jump on it, but I didn’t say “No, I can’t do that” either. I told her that things like that were certainly not best discussed in a toneless expressionless text, and suggested that maybe she should come see me. She suggested the approaching weekend, I said that was fine.

Several days later, she told me she couldn’t come, she had forgotten about agreeing to go to prom with her friend (who happened to be a guy I grew up with). This was fine, I said, as there were other weekends.

In the meantime, I thought a lot. I didn’t like thinking, but it was something that needed to be addressed, as she is very important to me.

I couldn’t be a very reliable boyfriend right now. I’ll discuss that in the next section.

Eventually I came to this conclusion: she means so much to me, and I so enjoy the time I spend with her, that it doesn’t matter to me what she wants (or rather, that’s all that matters). I’m satisfied with whichever kind of relationship she would prefer, as long as I get to keep her, and don’t have to give her up later.

Unfortunately, I never got a chance to even find out what the deal was… the only conversation I had was a few casual lines. I’ve left her several messages saying I was coming in town, and would like to see her if that was possible. She knows my number.

It made me think more, and I got pretty pissed off. How can you say something like that to someone and then not speak with them for a month?

She still means the world to me, but she picked a poor time to alienate me.

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So I finished school, not just for the semester, but for now. The next few years of my life will be such a daily torment, there’s no way for me to react but in laughter. I mean, come on, what a joke. I’m not too much of a college failure when I still have a 3 something GPA, but I realize that it’s aterrible idea to invest more money in a business degree I’ll never use, and can’t presently afford.

The presence of my feelings of restlessness haven’t subsided, but I’ve learned to fight it, somewhat. I’ve only woken up becuase of it twice more. That worried me, but it hasn’t happened in a while. I constantly hate with such a passion it can’t be healthy. It leaves me impatient and thoroughly annoyed.

I don’t have much of a plan. I have roughly a grand and a half left from playing cards that I didn’t spend to support myself or pay for school. I quit for a variety of reasons, which included a need for the money I made and several weeks of low action tables. It’s not something I’ve completely given up on, but it’s not something I can afford to do right now either.

So now, I need to get a job and some money to go somewhere other than living with my mother. Until then, expenses need to be kept to a mininum so my time absoulutely loathing every second of my life can be kept to a minimum.

My plan is to travel to Las vegas and be a dealer. This also makes me laugh. It’s certainly not my final aspiration, but I think Vegas would actually be really good for me. I’d stay entertained and not have to think very much. I have an old roommate who gambles for a living and another who is already a dealer there. I don’t know, but it sounds better than all of my other options. It would be easier if I had any sort of ambitions,interests, or life goals, and also if I didn’t hate mostly everything I did.

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So obviously, living at home and saving money is not the situation I’d want to be in with having any sort of romantic interest at all. Fortunately, I seem to have mostly eliminated my loneliness by sheer force. I just don’t have that need anymore, partially because I know I’m in no condition (what with hating thinking and all), and partially because I’m so unhopeful about anyone I could possibly meet. I mean, have you listened to me? I can’t just tell people this. I give some of them an idea, but no one knows the extent.

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There’s nothing interesting left to write presently. I think I had more in mind when I started, but I don’t recall now, and recollection would take far too much thinking.