2003-02-02 - 1:01 a.m.
'"but if you don't go out how do you meet people?"'
Jerry once said to me, after I told him that I unceremoniously shredded pretty much everything anyone ever wrote me and their pictures too, that you can't change who you are. You can't change the things that have happened to you. Or the time you spent with the people you used to know. I tried to tell him that wasn't what I was going for at all. That sometimes you just have to crawl out from beneath the weight of all those words. The weight of all those expectations for you and of you.
Sometimes you just have to start again on more level ground. I know better than anyone that you're never more yourself than in those moments when you're trying to escape her.
So on a lot of levels all this is really good. I mean, I admit that I miss my friends. I miss those times. But, then a part of me knows exactly why. And it always reminds me why. It's hard. Taking the good through the bad. It's hard remembering good times when you know they'll probably be the last. Or at least the last of their kind. I just really have to ground myself in the middle of all this nostalgia or I'll get that urge to run. To go and seek them out. I need to resist, because I should be smarter by now. I should have learned my lesson. What can i say, it's a hard lesson to learn.
Meanwhile, I'm a sissy and didn't end up calling the boy from last night. Though, I did email him. Which isn't exactly the same, but I decided it counts. I put forth something. It's just that I really have this unexplainably hard time with the phone. It's really just those first few seconds before someone picks up and the panic of what am going to say? And what is he going to say? Will he be happy to hear from me? Disappointed? Does he remember me? Did I catch him in the middle of making pancakes? It gets me all sorts of worked up. What? I never said I was cool.
And lately all the thinking about the kid in Texas has gotten a little easier. The pain isn't quite as sharp. I think one of my main problems is that I'm so convinced that I just should not be thinking about him or talking about him that I villainize myself when I do. And that villain usually gets some sort of punishment. And it's always pretty harsh. But that just makes it all sorts of forbidden and irresistible. I've decided to just let them come. No more slapping a palm over my mouth the second his name starts to come out. No more redirecting my train of thought. I'm a lousy conductor anyway. And it's nice to think about him sometimes. Especially the good times.
Take for instance:
I was thinking about this frat-boy that I kind of dated for a little while there. And how we went to see 'Tadpole' and he held my hand. And through the whole movie I searched him with my fingers. Stroking his wrist looking for a pulse-point. Trying to feel his heartbeat, because that seemed just tremendously important at the time. I needed to feel it. Needed to feel something. And you know, I looked and looked and never did find it. I never felt it. Then a few weeks later I was with Brandon and I was so wrapped up in him that I forgot to even look for the one thing I could never find with anyone else. We were kissing on his couch when I felt it. His heart beating so fast and so strong. I could feel it beating out songs against me and through me. And I wasn't even looking for it. Sometimes when I think about him, I think that's got to be the difference.
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