Isaac.

This is well overdue. My life has been incredibly busy lately. Including directing a show called, "Because You’re Just Too Ugly". The masses loved it. Anyway….

Isaac. Also known as The Life Ruiner. Ugh. Sometimes I never feel ready to talk about him. Isaac was the first one to really hurt me. So to start…we’ll go to senior year of high school. The setting? Gym class. At my school, you get put into classes with whatever grade. So we were mixed in with the juniors. I was already friends with a lot of them with the exception of very few. One of the few decided to approach me that first day of school, and ask if I wanted to go to a foreign film festival. The films would be showing every Wednesday at the university nearby. This person was Isaac. I had met him once before at a music banquet the previous year. But we didn’t speak enough to even call the other an acquaintance. I told him I didn’t know where on the campus to go, so he offered to come pick me up. To this day, I don’t know why I said yes. Isaac picked me up that night and we walked to the next town where the university was. He gave me a little plastic animal thing that held a flower. Said he found it and thought of me. Tell me why I thought that was cool and unique? Our conversation was very much one sided. He spoke a lot of his philosophies on life and what his parents thought of the way he lived. He opened up immediately, telling me he was bi and the one boy he loved would never be his. Because he dated the boy’s sister. Isaac told me all of the misfortunes with his mother. How she cut off his dreadlocks while he slept, and ignored him when he told her he was going to take acid. She was hysterical when she found poor Isaac on the floor in the middle of a bad trip. Isaac was the kid with money who slept on park benches and didn’t shampoo his hair because it hurt the environment. Yeah, I can pick ’em. That first night was just the beginning of all of this. We spent over half a year just hanging out, going on adventures, dragging our friend Robbie around and making him do dangerous things. I know the woods better because of him. I also have found many beautiful places where I live, when I thought there weren’t any. A lot of my inhibitions left when I was with him. No matter how hard he tried, however, I never did smoke weed. Anyone who wants to know, can ask about the adventures. But this entry is already going to be a little lengthy.

So how did this amazingly interesting kid with a metal pole in his chest, become The Life Ruiner? Well, I even have the exact date. Spring break was in full swing and I had spent the first week of it doing nothing. The second week, I had smoked my first cigarette and gotten horrendously drunk all in one night. The next morning, all I did was sleep on the couch and run to the bathroom to puke. Then I kissed my ex, Jeff, and it seemed like a good week. When Isaac called me and invited me to this…rock show extravaganza that would be happening all weekend, I was game. Oh yeah, Isaac plays the saxophone. He did this thing where he would have maybe a slight idea of what the song should sound like, and would just wing it on stage. Then, the boy love of his life, would go on stage with a bass guitar and improv along with him. Isaac always gave each song an obnoxiously long title with words few understood. On April 21, 2006 my life would be changed forever. It was his birthday and he was waiting for me at that same university that he foreign film fest had been held. The rock show was in an old church. I get there via a few concerned friends, and join Isaac in watching some band. I’d seen them before and liked them, so when he suggested a walk, I insisted we stay. The band finished their set, and Isaac led me outside into the woods. It was pitch black and we were now beside a creek. Isaac and I sit beside the creek, talking about nothing in particular. The conversation near the end of all this nothing was:

Isaac: I wish there were stars out tonight.
Me: Eh, clouds are nice, too.
Isaac: Yeah, but stars would have made this night even more beautiful.
Me: ??????
Isaac: *leans in, and kisses me*

A kiss would lead to a heavy makeout session where I would receive my first french kiss. I was so nervous, I thought I might puke. Somewhere in the midst of all this he said, "I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long." He kept trying to put his hand up my skirt, but I wasn’t having any of that. Sometime after that, his phone rang and the rock show had ended for the night. So we walked up to the church, and got into his brother- in- law’s van. Some guy came up to talk to Isaac and saw me. He asked Isaac if I was his girlfriend, and when Isaac said, "kind of," the kid turned to me and said, "It shouldn’t be kind of! He’s a good man!" Because, obviously, I’m the slut. When Isaac got back in the van, I said, jokingly, "Yeah, Isaac, it shouldn’t be kind of." He said, "Fair enough." And that. Is how I was duped into a very short relationship with Isaac.

The next night, I went back to the university to see the continuation of the rock show. Isaac was supposed to be playing that night, and he’d asked me to come. My sister dropped me off, and had said to call when I wanted to go home. Isaac greets me at the top of the stairs and immediately says, "I have to talk to you." We turn to go inside and find somewhere private to talk. Meanwhile, being followed by one of Isaac’s customers. That kid must have really wanted some weed, because Isaac had to tell him to go away three times. So we enter some hallway where Isaac gives this speech that might have gone something like this, "I thought about this all last night, and I really wanted to try having a girlfriend. But, I really care about you and I think I would end up cheating on you. I will still go anywhere and do anything you want to do, but I just can’t be your boyfriend." Now, this was a disgusting boiling pot of snotty bullshit, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t care all that much. At this point. I told him I was fine with it (I was), we made out, and then I went and found a place to sit. I didn’t know anyone so I was by myself the entire night. Isaac played, and dedicated every song to every other girl there except me. I made frantic phone calls to my sister to pick me up, and she never answered. My cousin was calling and yelling at me to hurry to a party people were throwing for her birthday. Outside, I was still trying to get a hold of my sister. I didn’t want to be there anymore. A friend of mine, Adam, was making his way toward me, and I thought I was saved. I asked him to go inside and watch the show with me. He started babbling about how he was protesting the show because they wouldn’t let his band play, blah blah blah. I had him halfway up the stairs, Adam bitching all the way, until Isaac appeared behind me. He whispered, just loud enough for Adam to hear, "That’s because his band sucks!" Adam left. Isaac walked away. I was alone, again. It was dark out. So I bid farewell to Isaac and started my long walk home along the countryside, in the dark. Alone. My sister called in apology when I was outside of my house. She was in a bar and left her phone in the car. That bitch.

The next week school started and the week after, the b

and was going to some competition in Virginia. The week school started, I saw Isaac in a group of his friends. Walked by like nothing happened. Just a normal smile. Unfortunately, Robbie caught our gaze and yelled, "Slut!" So. Isaac told Robbie. When Robbie had called me a slut, a couple of Isaac’s friends that I did not know, turned and realized the situation. From that moment on, none of them hesitated when the saw me in the hallway to call me a slut or whore…or whatever. I think Isaac felt bad. Though he never apologized. He was supposed to go to prom with me. Well. After the band trip, he came back to school with a new girlfriend. It was scandalous. She had cheated on her boyfriend and had sex with Isaac during the trip. I guess Isaac didn’t really care about the girl since he was dating her. -_- Obviously, prom was out of the question. And so was our friendship. I had to endure two months of seeing him and this girl makeout every other day during gym class. It was sick. Every time I saw him outside of school, or even at school, something horrible would happen during that day. That’s how he earned the name The Life Ruiner.

We didn’t talk again until graduation. Where he played in the band, and outside, we did a movie scene reunion. I was on the steps of the school with my family, he was out on the sidewalk, aways from where I stood. He yelled my name, and in my cap and gown, I ran to him, where he took me in his arms, and we embraced. I’m not sure I saw him at all that summer. He had stopped going to the park across from me, and only called once. Where I embarrassed him by asking if I was the last person he called to hang out. He said no, but realized what made me think this way. Maybe he stayed away for my sake. I didn’t see him again until after I’d gone away to school. He even called once or twice. He still texts me to see when I’m home for break. We always come back to each other. It’s embarrassing. This past summer, he tried to kiss me. I looked at him and told him (I didn’t think I would) that I had a boyfriend. He looked sad and embarrassed. Then he looked up at me and told me he had a girlfriend. Her name is Devonne. Pronounced, "Dev-in". We told each other about our significant others, and took a walk along the dikes. Anything physical, really, ended there. I guess we’re still friends. I saw him a couple weeks ago. He gave up his dream of living on a piece of land with a bunch of people. No taxes, growing their own food, and living his so called Utopia. However, he still has every intention of hopping trains and playing music for people wherever the train stops. Oh, and getting a doctorate. Who knew?

Leigha.
 

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That’s uh…wow.

Why do you think that was?

The first depression taught us that when things get hard you have a choice. You can fight your way out of it or you can let someone lift you out of it. My grandparents grew up right in the middle of the depression in a Kentucky coal miner’s house. My grandpa moved to where the jobs were, worked, and then earned a living to pay for his children. He died in the lower middle class. A far cry from theonion and lard sandwiches he was eating to survive being dirt poor in the depression. People no longer have a concept of that pride and ability that will carry them through. They think it’s someone else’s job and that all started due to the establishment and embellishment of the welfare state. We have such a skewed version of poor in this country. The poor where I live are spending their money on clothes and booze and fancy electronics. Their money comes in the form of a government check. And the upper classes that are feeling the pain are doing so because they don’t know how to do without. People would rather keep their cell phones, their netflix, their high priced cars and let their houses go. It’s unreal.

I’m frustrated at the reasoning behind it and the general fraud and abuse of my money. It’s not ok with me. We seem to just shrug and say, “That’s governement. What are you going to do?” It’s not normal. It’s not just the way it is. I’m actually starting to feel it’s time for a third continental congress. States rights and all that.