April Fool’s Cruel Joke . . .

Longest Time
By
Billy Joel

Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time
Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time
If you said goodbye to me tonight
There would still be music left to write
What else could I do
I’m so inspired by you
That hasn’t happened for the longest time
Once I thought my innocence was gone
Now I know that happiness goes on
That’s where you found me
When you put your arms around me
I haven’t been there for the longest time
Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time
Oh, oh, oh
For the longest
I’m that voice you’re hearing in the hall
And the greatest miracle of all
Is how I need you
And how you needed me too
That hasn’t happened for the longest time
Maybe this won’t last very long
But you feel so right
And I could be wrong
Maybe I’ve been hoping too hard
But I’ve gone this far
And it’s more than I hoped for
Who knows how much further we’ll go on
Maybe I’ll be sorry when you’re gone
I’ll take my chances
I forgot how nice romance is
I haven’t been there for the longest time
I had second thoughts at the start
I said to myself
Hold on to your heart
Now I know the woman that you are
You’re wonderful so far
And it’s more than I hoped for
I don’t care what consequence it brings
I have been a fool for lesser things
I want you so bad
I think you ought to know that
I intend to hold you for the longest time

I worked yesterday from four till about nine-thirty.  I made seventy bucks in tips, which was really nice.  After I realized that, I decided to reward myself by going to Barnes and Noble and getting another manga.  So I went there and picked out volume three and four of one of the series I’m reading.  (This one actually ends at volume seven!  Thank God . . .)  Anyway, as I was walking up to the counter, I happened to glance over to my right and who do I see standing there?  Well, let’s just say my heart started racing and almost jumped out of my throat.

Yeah.  Jason.  I looked away as quickly as I’d glanced over.  I just couldn’t . . . keep looking at him.

I went up to the counter and Cheryl, someone I met years ago at the Strawberry Festival, (and who ironically enough, knows Jason,) was behind the counter.  She rung me up and we joked a bit on how adicted I am to manga.  Then she looks up and says, “Hi!” to someone behind me.  Of course, it’s Jason.  She said to me ‘lok who it is.  Turn around.’  And I just muttered, “I know . . .” knowing I couldn’t turn around.  I wanted to get the second volume of one of the manga I bought, so she ordered it for me and then I left, looking back once to glance at him again.

I wondered if he had a ride, or if he’d walked there, and briefly saw in my mind’s eye, me asking him if he needed a ride home.  But I shook my head as I got into the car, thinking, ‘No.  No, I can;t do it.  Just get in, just drive, I can’t do it.’  And my thoughts maintained much of the same structure until I let the parking lot.

I don’t remember exactly when I stared crying.  I think it was when I was at the light waiting to turn out of the parking lot.  Perhaps it was the light to turn onto the highway.  Either way, I started crying and of course, the song I was listening to on my tape was The Longest Time, by Billy Joel.  Jason once told me that was one of his favorite songs and even before that, every time I heard it I would think of him.  That one line, “I’m that voice you’re hearing in the hall,” every time I hear that, I think of that time my junior year when Jason wasn’t in choir.  I was woried about him and I went under the pretense of going to the restroom, and was searching the halls.  I got a drink at the water fountain at the main entrance and wandered down the hallway to the right.  That’s when I saw him walking toward me, cradling his wrist with an ice pack on it.

I got back to my house, thinking that maybe I was okay, maybe I could just go inside like nothing had happened.  But it didn’t work that way.  I got out and stood at the back of my car, sobbing.  I hated, I hate that I couldn’t say anything to him.  I hate that I made that promise to myself.  I hate that I didn’t mean enough to him that I had to mae that promise.  I hate that I’m still in love with him, even though I know that he’s an incredibly selfish person.  I hate that I remember how it felt to kiss him.  I hate that I remember that jacket he was wearing.  I hate that I remember having it around my shoulders.  I hate how much I miss hearing him play piano.  I hate that I want to hear him whistling outside my window.  I hate that I want to hold him one more time and feel him holding me back.  I hate that every time I think I’m going to be all right, that maybe I can forget him and my life will be okay, he comes back somehow and I’m reminded exactly how strong feelings can be.

I don’t want to remember.  I don’t want to remember kissing him, holding him, hugging him . . .  I don’t want to remember his arms around me, because it hurts too much to also remember that I can’t have that anymore.  It hurts to know that I didn’t mean enough to him to fight.  That he’ll remain in what amounts to some measure of Hell because he won’t fight.

And I hate that.  I hate that he’d rather lose someone, lose me, than fight an emotionally abusive pyschotic bitch who never should have been a mother.  I hate that he’s willing to let her get away with what she did and is doing, rather than bring her to justice.  I hate that he “values” “peace and quiet” so much that he refuses to fight something that should be fought.  I hate that I have nothing solid against her to go after her myself.  I hate that so many other people claim “it’s family business and we shouldn’t get involved.”

I hate . . . I hate that once again, I don’t mean enough to someone.  He’s alone.  I’m not by his side anymore.  And instead of fighting to keep the one friend who always believed in him, even when I wouldn’t let myself show it, he’s willing to lose me.  Why doesn’t he know that I would fight by his side?  Why doesn’t he realize that I would take on his stresses myself?  That I would help him through anything that he had to go through, as long as it meant we didn’t have to hide?

I went inside after getting myself under control and went up to my room.  I took Sydney out and was sitting in my smiley bean bag chair.  My eyes started tearing again as I realized what yesterday was.  April first.  April Fool’s Day.  And I looked up and just had to wonder — was seeing him there some cruel cosmic joke?  So

me kind of torment purposely played on me?

Because I did realize one thing today.  He had to have either walked there, or had access to a car and driven there alone.  He wouldn’t have risked coming up behind me, even at the checkout, if any member of his family was there.

::Sighs::  I wish . . .  I wish I could be proven wrong.

I love him.  And I hate that.

I hate that I love someone who I will never mean enough to . . .