"Here's the thing..." Simon stood in front of me, sopping wet. "You can't quit."
This was just what I got for opening the door on a dark, rainy night at a time when all sane people were in bed asleep. As it was I got to meet my soon to be ex-assistant manager and sometime friend in my fluffy PJs sometime past midnight. I had to wear the bunny PJs that night. Insert mental groan here.
Simon was, to put it simply, a total sweet heart. and a good boss. If he had been the boss I might not have wanted to quit so badly. But the facts were that he was not the boss he was the assistant boss and the boss sucked. And fact number two? I was wearing the bunny pajamas. Someone out there hates me. I glared at the ceiling- aiming for the cosmos in general.
"Is there something interesting up there?" Simon was raising one eyebrow. Probably contemplaiting whether or not I was completely sane. Whatever. "Simon," I said, ignoring him, "What the freaking heck are you doing here?"
ed.
He looked at me, dark eyes intense. "You can't quit." He reiterated. I started to interupt but he kept going. "You can't! You are one of the best employees that we have. Please, Booger is the next best thing we have." Ah, yes, Booger. I believe that his name should fill you in a bit as to how badly things sucked over at our lovely establishment.
"Is that really supposed to encourage me?" I raised a brow, "You know Harvey is a sexiest pig- which is why Booger has gotten the last three months awards for employee of the month. Come on Simon."
He was practically pouting, "But.... Izzy..." he looked at me pleadingly again. "Please?"
I laughed. "No, Simon! I'm afraid I just don't like you that much. Now get out of here. You are dripping all over my floor and I'm tired. You don't want me to be late for my last day of work now do you? Hmm?" I didn't wait for an anwer, I just reached past him and opened the door and gave him a shove." He got the hint, but threw one last look over his shoulder as he leaned on my doorway. "If you reconsider let me know." He looked as if he was going to say more so I said, "Not gonna happen, sweetie. Now, go away." Laughing I shut the door in his face. From my spot at the window I watched as he walked-jogged to his cars getting even more drenched along the way.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Take a step at a time
Carri's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "Seriously?" I laughed at the expression on her face.
"Yeah. Totally." She grabbed my arms and looked me dead in the eye, "Seriously!"
She was sort of squeaking now. "Oh my God. You are so saving me right here, you understand. You are like, my hero." Her curly blond hair bobbed around her shoulders as she jumped from her seat. Her words were coming so fast that they were blurring in my ears. "This is so great. I mean, it's awesome. I'm gonna go order you a t-shirt like, right now. You are a medium. Right? I- Oh, and I don't really have any benefits to go with the job... Is that okay?"
I laughed, "Yes, and yes. Carri, I can't imagine anything better than having you for a boss." "Aw sweetie, aren't you cute." She grinned. "Okay, I'm gonna go in back and get you the paper work to fill out." She scampered off, and I shared a look with Sami before we both started laughing.
"Well," said Sami, "this will be interesting. Hey, at least you can give me free food now."
From the back Carri's voice drifted up, "Not on your life miss Sami!"
"Yeah. Totally." She grabbed my arms and looked me dead in the eye, "Seriously!"
She was sort of squeaking now. "Oh my God. You are so saving me right here, you understand. You are like, my hero." Her curly blond hair bobbed around her shoulders as she jumped from her seat. Her words were coming so fast that they were blurring in my ears. "This is so great. I mean, it's awesome. I'm gonna go order you a t-shirt like, right now. You are a medium. Right? I- Oh, and I don't really have any benefits to go with the job... Is that okay?"
I laughed, "Yes, and yes. Carri, I can't imagine anything better than having you for a boss." "Aw sweetie, aren't you cute." She grinned. "Okay, I'm gonna go in back and get you the paper work to fill out." She scampered off, and I shared a look with Sami before we both started laughing.
"Well," said Sami, "this will be interesting. Hey, at least you can give me free food now."
From the back Carri's voice drifted up, "Not on your life miss Sami!"
Saturday, April 11, 2009
just a little change
It always surprises me how easy it is to pull myself together in a public place. I wasn't always able to keep it together. It used to be that the smallest of things had me falling to pieces. But I had grown up so much in the past year and, thank goodness, I had been able to build that much needed barrier between me and the rest of the world. Now, (unless they were one of the few who could read my face) no one knew when I was upset unless I let them.
So it wasn't hard for me to take that step into the little diner and switch from heart-on-my-sleeve mode to public mode.
Sami and I sat down at the cherry red booth, setting our much craved banana splits (with extra chocolate) down at the black and white checkered table. A new woman in town, Carri White, had taken over the diner recently and she was notorious with her flair for the dramatic. She had taken the dull as paper building and transformed it into something with a warm, glamorous, movie set sort of setting. Just being inside the place made me feel better... Perhaps that was why Sami had chosen to bring me here.
Carri herself was in the diner that day, and she smiled broadly from behind the counter when she saw us come in. I hoped that she would have a chance to come over and chat with us later, if there was a break in business. Although Whiton was a small town, the fact that The Parlour was the only place that served edible food meant that Carri was doing fantastically well for herself.
The conversation between Sami and I was light and relaxing, as we ate our creamy Banana Split. Soon, I was nearly completely calm inside as well as out. I smiled at Sami as I leaned back and stretched. I laughed as my spine popped back into place, "Oh, gosh, my spine is all crinkled."
"Izzy!" Sami moaned at me, "That is so gross. I swear..." She trailed of as I burst into a fit of giggles at her reaction. "You said that just to freak me out," she accused, "didn't you?"
I just laughed harder. She glared at me without true anger, "You jerk."
By then we were both giggling, and that was how Carri found us when she was finally able to escape from the hungry masses. "Well, hello girls." I scooched over in the booth so that she could sit next to me. She practically sank into the cushion of the seat next to me, sighing dramatically as if it was the first time she had been able to sit down all day- knowing Carri, perhaps it was.
Her head thrown back against the cushion, Carri said "That idiot, Arron, quit today. Just flat up called me this morning and told me not to expect him in because he could care less about The Parlour or his job here."
Sami and I shared a look. Arron Stine had always been a creepy sort of guy, the sort who would sneak a look down your shirt when you weren't paying attention. But it had been hard for Carri to find someone to work at The Parlour with her. Any of the decent workers had already been snagged by the local fast food places or the Walmart.
My brain whirred, maybe this could be a change, perhaps not the change, but it was better than nothing. Impulsively, I turned to Carri. "I'd need to turn in my notice to McDonalds, and finish up a last week there, but if you want me I'm your girl."
So it wasn't hard for me to take that step into the little diner and switch from heart-on-my-sleeve mode to public mode.
Sami and I sat down at the cherry red booth, setting our much craved banana splits (with extra chocolate) down at the black and white checkered table. A new woman in town, Carri White, had taken over the diner recently and she was notorious with her flair for the dramatic. She had taken the dull as paper building and transformed it into something with a warm, glamorous, movie set sort of setting. Just being inside the place made me feel better... Perhaps that was why Sami had chosen to bring me here.
Carri herself was in the diner that day, and she smiled broadly from behind the counter when she saw us come in. I hoped that she would have a chance to come over and chat with us later, if there was a break in business. Although Whiton was a small town, the fact that The Parlour was the only place that served edible food meant that Carri was doing fantastically well for herself.
The conversation between Sami and I was light and relaxing, as we ate our creamy Banana Split. Soon, I was nearly completely calm inside as well as out. I smiled at Sami as I leaned back and stretched. I laughed as my spine popped back into place, "Oh, gosh, my spine is all crinkled."
"Izzy!" Sami moaned at me, "That is so gross. I swear..." She trailed of as I burst into a fit of giggles at her reaction. "You said that just to freak me out," she accused, "didn't you?"
I just laughed harder. She glared at me without true anger, "You jerk."
By then we were both giggling, and that was how Carri found us when she was finally able to escape from the hungry masses. "Well, hello girls." I scooched over in the booth so that she could sit next to me. She practically sank into the cushion of the seat next to me, sighing dramatically as if it was the first time she had been able to sit down all day- knowing Carri, perhaps it was.
Her head thrown back against the cushion, Carri said "That idiot, Arron, quit today. Just flat up called me this morning and told me not to expect him in because he could care less about The Parlour or his job here."
Sami and I shared a look. Arron Stine had always been a creepy sort of guy, the sort who would sneak a look down your shirt when you weren't paying attention. But it had been hard for Carri to find someone to work at The Parlour with her. Any of the decent workers had already been snagged by the local fast food places or the Walmart.
My brain whirred, maybe this could be a change, perhaps not the change, but it was better than nothing. Impulsively, I turned to Carri. "I'd need to turn in my notice to McDonalds, and finish up a last week there, but if you want me I'm your girl."
Thursday, April 9, 2009
A Friend In Need...
"I know it's rough," Sami consoled, putting her hand on mine for a second. "I know it is."
I looked at her; she was studying the road again. I couldn't look away. She was so pretty. Her hair blowing innocently behind her back, her hands steady against the jarring steering wheel that was revolting against the car's aching wheel alignment. Too many jaunts down too many country roads.
I knew she could feel my stare, but she made no move to bring it to an end. All she had to do was look at me and I'd have looked away. It's so much easier to stare at someone who's just a disinterested third party.
I couldn't help but wish she could read my mind. It would be so much easier than expressing it out loud. The truth was, I didn't really know why I was so unhappy. So restless. Here I had a wonderful friend--a perfectly wonderful gal pal--someone I could hang with who held me under no obligation to look good, feel good or even be good. She liked me no matter what part of myself I chose to show her that day and she just dealt with it. She was so secure in herself she never felt compelled to change anybody around her. She did not need me to change so that she could like me. She was one of exactly two people in my life who felt that way.
The rest were Charlies.
"Give it up, Izzy, I know you wanna cry. Just cry, for cryin' out loud. Then we'll both feel better."
She was kind enough not to look at me when she said it.
The flood gates opened wide and I threw my face into my grimy hands. Lord, how I hate crying. I do whatever it takes to avoid it, but there was no avoiding this one. Some invitations are harder to resist than others.
"I don't know what it is, Sami, I can't figure it out," I choked.
"Figure what out?"
"This...this unhappiness. This...loss. Why do I feel like I've lost something? I can't figure that out. It's like I'm running with a blindfold on."
"And a pair of scissors in your hands!"
"Exactly! But why? What's so different about today? Why do I have to live without something I want when it's really such a small thing?" The ingratitude was beginning to strangle me.
Ingratitude. Am I really that ungrateful? Am I really this self-pitying? There's got to be something more to this...this FIT...than poor, pitiful me. "I think I'm coming undone. How do I pick it all up. The pieces. Where do they fit now?"
"Now? What do you mean now, nothing's changed. So you had a hard time dealing with your ex, who wouldn't? You're not as dramatic as you think you are. You need to chill. Seriously. Forget about it. It's done. I'm here and we're almost in Whiton. It's time to get some ice cream down at The Parlour; what're they going to think if we don't show up?"
I looked at my watch. Sam was right. There was half a banana split with my name on it waiting there at The Parlour, third booth from the left--the one with the new upholstery. I knew Sam wasn't brushing anything under the rug; she just wanted me to get myself together before we hit town. It would mortify me to be seen carrying on as such in public. I could never face anyone again. It was time to put it behind me for a while, just get through the next half hour, and move my feet forward. One baby step at a time.
I looked at her; she was studying the road again. I couldn't look away. She was so pretty. Her hair blowing innocently behind her back, her hands steady against the jarring steering wheel that was revolting against the car's aching wheel alignment. Too many jaunts down too many country roads.
I knew she could feel my stare, but she made no move to bring it to an end. All she had to do was look at me and I'd have looked away. It's so much easier to stare at someone who's just a disinterested third party.
I couldn't help but wish she could read my mind. It would be so much easier than expressing it out loud. The truth was, I didn't really know why I was so unhappy. So restless. Here I had a wonderful friend--a perfectly wonderful gal pal--someone I could hang with who held me under no obligation to look good, feel good or even be good. She liked me no matter what part of myself I chose to show her that day and she just dealt with it. She was so secure in herself she never felt compelled to change anybody around her. She did not need me to change so that she could like me. She was one of exactly two people in my life who felt that way.
The rest were Charlies.
"Give it up, Izzy, I know you wanna cry. Just cry, for cryin' out loud. Then we'll both feel better."
She was kind enough not to look at me when she said it.
The flood gates opened wide and I threw my face into my grimy hands. Lord, how I hate crying. I do whatever it takes to avoid it, but there was no avoiding this one. Some invitations are harder to resist than others.
"I don't know what it is, Sami, I can't figure it out," I choked.
"Figure what out?"
"This...this unhappiness. This...loss. Why do I feel like I've lost something? I can't figure that out. It's like I'm running with a blindfold on."
"And a pair of scissors in your hands!"
"Exactly! But why? What's so different about today? Why do I have to live without something I want when it's really such a small thing?" The ingratitude was beginning to strangle me.
Ingratitude. Am I really that ungrateful? Am I really this self-pitying? There's got to be something more to this...this FIT...than poor, pitiful me. "I think I'm coming undone. How do I pick it all up. The pieces. Where do they fit now?"
"Now? What do you mean now, nothing's changed. So you had a hard time dealing with your ex, who wouldn't? You're not as dramatic as you think you are. You need to chill. Seriously. Forget about it. It's done. I'm here and we're almost in Whiton. It's time to get some ice cream down at The Parlour; what're they going to think if we don't show up?"
I looked at my watch. Sam was right. There was half a banana split with my name on it waiting there at The Parlour, third booth from the left--the one with the new upholstery. I knew Sam wasn't brushing anything under the rug; she just wanted me to get myself together before we hit town. It would mortify me to be seen carrying on as such in public. I could never face anyone again. It was time to put it behind me for a while, just get through the next half hour, and move my feet forward. One baby step at a time.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
I looked out the window of Sam's car, the cracks in the faux leather seat dug into my skin. I fidgeted, feeling Sam's eyes on me- I knew she was worrying, I knew that she wanted to know what had happend, and I also knew she would wait for me to be ready to tell her what was going on. I looked out the window, trying to hide from everything for just a little longer.
If only I truly understood what was happening myself. No matter what I did, nothing in my life seemed to go according to plan. I had never wanted my life. I wanted something far more.... Just more than what I had. That sounds selfish and ungrateful, I know. But it's the truth.
I rolled down the window and let the breeze blow in through the car. Eva Cassidy sang through the static on the radio.
If only I truly understood what was happening myself. No matter what I did, nothing in my life seemed to go according to plan. I had never wanted my life. I wanted something far more.... Just more than what I had. That sounds selfish and ungrateful, I know. But it's the truth.
I rolled down the window and let the breeze blow in through the car. Eva Cassidy sang through the static on the radio.
In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand
And an aching in my heart
And my pockets full of sand
I'm a long way from home
And I miss my loved ones so
In the early morning rain...
With no place to go
"What am I doing here, Sami?" I finally broke the silence. Sam looked at me askance for a moment before she furrowed her brow to puzzle over my question.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean... Here as in on planet earth? Or... What do you mean?" Sam asked, as she flicked her eyes from the road towards me for a moment.
I sighed, sinking further into my battered seat, feeling the stuffing agains my skin in places. I looked out the window as I said, "Its just so hard getting up every morning and living a life that doesn't have a destination. I'm not going anywhere. No matter how hard I try. I get up. I go to a job that doesn't make me happy, and then I come home and chill with you. I go to bed. I'm tired of not having a purpose. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not doing anything with my life."
"Oh, honey." She took a deep breath and let it out in a woosh. I watched the lines on the side of the road blur as they passed me by until, finally I could see the sign for Whiton in the distance. I closed my eyes and tried to remember to breath.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Love Hurts
"Nothing. Charlie was just leaving," I replied before Charlie could. "Weren't you, Charlie?"
He just looked at me. That blank, familiar, "What'd I do?" stare.
"I drove 75 all the way here until I got stuck behind a stupid combine, dang it I hate those things!" Sam's long, heavy brown hair blew around her face getting in her mouth as she spit out the word "combine." Sam hated farm implements.
"Thanks for coming, Sami, I really appreciate it," I purred, edging Charlie out of the picture by standing in front of him as if he were invisible. "I'll get my junk out of the Bug and we can jet, it'll only take a sec."
"No hurry, Iz," Sami responded, eyeballing Charlie with her evil blue-eyed Ice Glare. "What the heck are you doing here, Charlie," she put him on the spot. "Hoping to rescue a damsel in distress. Your specialty these days?"
"You know what, I should be going, I gotta do something in town in a little while," Charlie responded after deciding not to dignify Sami's accusation with any sort of defense.
"Good! You better git, then!" Sami encouraged waving her hand toward his obnoxious make-out mobile.
I smiled to myself. Sami always had my back.
For a minute there I felt a little guilty. Charlie was just trying to help. He'd have done anything I asked him to do. I just don't want anything from him. Least of all his help.
I'd rather be lonely than pitied.
"See ya, girls," he had to nerve to holler out his window as he pulled away, spraying dirt at us as he left. I knew he didn't mean to, but I called him a name just the same.
"I HATE THAT GUY!" I screamed at the tops of my lungs.
It felt good.
"He's such a tool. Don't waste another second on him, Izzy," Sami consoled. "But just remember: love and hate are not always too far apart."
I knew what she meant, even though I decided not to react to it. When it comes to people, you don't really hate something you never loved. Why would you bother?
He just looked at me. That blank, familiar, "What'd I do?" stare.
"I drove 75 all the way here until I got stuck behind a stupid combine, dang it I hate those things!" Sam's long, heavy brown hair blew around her face getting in her mouth as she spit out the word "combine." Sam hated farm implements.
"Thanks for coming, Sami, I really appreciate it," I purred, edging Charlie out of the picture by standing in front of him as if he were invisible. "I'll get my junk out of the Bug and we can jet, it'll only take a sec."
"No hurry, Iz," Sami responded, eyeballing Charlie with her evil blue-eyed Ice Glare. "What the heck are you doing here, Charlie," she put him on the spot. "Hoping to rescue a damsel in distress. Your specialty these days?"
"You know what, I should be going, I gotta do something in town in a little while," Charlie responded after deciding not to dignify Sami's accusation with any sort of defense.
"Good! You better git, then!" Sami encouraged waving her hand toward his obnoxious make-out mobile.
I smiled to myself. Sami always had my back.
For a minute there I felt a little guilty. Charlie was just trying to help. He'd have done anything I asked him to do. I just don't want anything from him. Least of all his help.
I'd rather be lonely than pitied.
"See ya, girls," he had to nerve to holler out his window as he pulled away, spraying dirt at us as he left. I knew he didn't mean to, but I called him a name just the same.
"I HATE THAT GUY!" I screamed at the tops of my lungs.
It felt good.
"He's such a tool. Don't waste another second on him, Izzy," Sami consoled. "But just remember: love and hate are not always too far apart."
I knew what she meant, even though I decided not to react to it. When it comes to people, you don't really hate something you never loved. Why would you bother?
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Never See You The Same Way
That was it, I was pissed, I was stressed and I was tired. "Look, Charlie, you can stay or you can go. I don't really care." I stared him down and tried to put a feeling of apathy behind my words, they came out sounding dead instead. "But I'm going back to sleep until Sam gets here- so don't expect me to entertain you."
He was quiet for a moment as he tried to stare me down. But I had had enough. I glared up at him until he blinked at me in surprise. With a sigh I found my place on the grass and tried to regain the small comfort of a few minutes before.
"Hey kid, come on, don't be that way." Charlies voice was soft and intreating. I wasn't the least bit tempted to give in to the pull I felt at the tone.
I shut my eyes tight and tried to will the tightness from my muscles. If I could just hold out for another thirty minutes Sam would be here and I wouldn't have to worry about a thing.
"Just go away Charlie." I heard a rustle next to my head, the sound of Charlie settling onto the grass beside me. I sighed, and sat up. "When I say, go away, I actually mean go away." With each syllable I poked him in the chest for emphasis. Thinking of Sara I silently added, 'Unlike some people.'
"For crying out loud, Isabelle, what is your problem?" His eyes sparked with sudden frustration.
He was mad at me? No way. I stood up, "My problem?" My voice was chill and quiet, and I knew my eyes were slit in my worst death glare. For once I wasn't going to care about keeping my cool around this boy. I wasn't going to take his crap silently anymore.
"This place is my problem!" I stretched my arms wide to encompass all of Kansas, or at least all of Whiton.
"Not knowing where I belong is my problem! Not being happy is my problem! Having no control is my problem!" The wind blew straight in my face and my red hair fluffed up, creating a strange sort of halo around my head.
I stalked toward Charlie until he was backed up against the side of my useless Bug, and continued, "Being scared is my problem! You are my problem!" My voice had risen to a shrill screech until it cracked on the last word.
I turned away, only then realizing that I had started to cry. Charlies hand came to rest on my arm. I brushed it away and without looking at him said, "You walked away from me, Charlie. You hurt me. You don't get to be part of my life now just because you want to. Go away. Now."
"No, Isabelle."
I just turned at looked at him blankly. It was as if I couldn't comprehend the meaning of the word he had just spoken. I open my mouth to reply- without a clue what in the world I was about to say- but then, as if from far away, I heard a car door slam shut and Sam calling my name.
"Izzy? Charlie! What the hell is going on?!"
He was quiet for a moment as he tried to stare me down. But I had had enough. I glared up at him until he blinked at me in surprise. With a sigh I found my place on the grass and tried to regain the small comfort of a few minutes before.
"Hey kid, come on, don't be that way." Charlies voice was soft and intreating. I wasn't the least bit tempted to give in to the pull I felt at the tone.
I shut my eyes tight and tried to will the tightness from my muscles. If I could just hold out for another thirty minutes Sam would be here and I wouldn't have to worry about a thing.
"Just go away Charlie." I heard a rustle next to my head, the sound of Charlie settling onto the grass beside me. I sighed, and sat up. "When I say, go away, I actually mean go away." With each syllable I poked him in the chest for emphasis. Thinking of Sara I silently added, 'Unlike some people.'
"For crying out loud, Isabelle, what is your problem?" His eyes sparked with sudden frustration.
He was mad at me? No way. I stood up, "My problem?" My voice was chill and quiet, and I knew my eyes were slit in my worst death glare. For once I wasn't going to care about keeping my cool around this boy. I wasn't going to take his crap silently anymore.
"This place is my problem!" I stretched my arms wide to encompass all of Kansas, or at least all of Whiton.
"Not knowing where I belong is my problem! Not being happy is my problem! Having no control is my problem!" The wind blew straight in my face and my red hair fluffed up, creating a strange sort of halo around my head.
I stalked toward Charlie until he was backed up against the side of my useless Bug, and continued, "Being scared is my problem! You are my problem!" My voice had risen to a shrill screech until it cracked on the last word.
I turned away, only then realizing that I had started to cry. Charlies hand came to rest on my arm. I brushed it away and without looking at him said, "You walked away from me, Charlie. You hurt me. You don't get to be part of my life now just because you want to. Go away. Now."
"No, Isabelle."
I just turned at looked at him blankly. It was as if I couldn't comprehend the meaning of the word he had just spoken. I open my mouth to reply- without a clue what in the world I was about to say- but then, as if from far away, I heard a car door slam shut and Sam calling my name.
"Izzy? Charlie! What the hell is going on?!"
Danger Ahead
"Sam! Thank GOD you're there!" I nearly screamed.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, worried.
"I'm stranded. That's what's wrong," I began to cry. I always cry when I'm frustrated--something I loathe about myself.
"Stranded? What do you mean? Do you need a ride home from work; I'm crossing Third Street, I can be there in two minutes--"
"No! I'm not at work...I'm on the highway. About an hour out of Whiton," I began, "thirty some miles south of Charlie's place."
"An hour out of Whiton? Why?"
Obviously, Sam hadn't been home in a while. "Oh Sami, I've made such a mess of things!" I sobbed.
"No you haven't! What're you talking about? Hold on, I'll be right there, don't move!"
Highway 66 was the only road out of town. You could go north or you could go south but you couldn't get lost. I knew all I could do now was wait.
There was typically no traffic this time of day. Very little traffic at any time of day. Nobody wanted to come to Whiton. The only road with any wear on it was north--a good hundred miles north where the only shopping mall west of the Mississippi and east of the Rockies resides. So I felt safe in lying in the grass and getting some shut-eye.
I don't know how long I lay there when I heard a vehicle approach. It didn't sound like Sami's little rice grinder, it sounded like a truck. A truck I had heard many times before.
"Need a lift?" he hollered, leaning toward the passenger side window.
Charlie. Of course it was Charlie.
"No, I'm okay," I answered, lamely.
"Funny, you don't look okay," he laughed, pulling over and parking.
Great. I was officially a hostage.
"What's up, Beautiful?" he asked, looking more handsome than I remembered.
"Nothing," I couldn't make eye contact, so I began slicing blades of grass open with the edge of my thumbnail.
"Looks like you've got places to go, people to see," he said, pointing to my stuffed Bug.
"Yeah. Looks like it."
"Got radiator problems?" he walked toward the back of the Bug and opened up the hood. "Ooh, this doesn't look good," he announced, taking in a sharp breath.
"Look, Charlie, Sam's on her way, you don't need to help me, I'll be fine," I said irritably. I couldn't help it. I was always defensive when it came to Charlie.
"I can see you'll be fine, of course, who wouldn't be fine...stranded out here in the middle of nowhere, the closest ranch being a good 20 miles in either direction. I'm surprised you got cell service." He looked at me with his eyebrows slightly arched. The way he always looked when he teased me.
"Listen, I'm just going to load up her car and push this over toward the ditch. Whoever wants it can have it. I'm done with it." I dropped the blade of grass I was dissecting and folded my arms over my chest. Still, I couldn't look at him.
"Why're you leaving, anyway? Where are you going?" He looked geniuinely concerned. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about my earlier sentiments. What if he saw me? And here he was being so nice and so helpful. But that wasn't entirely unlike Charlie. If you didn't need him, he'd be right there.
"Don't worry about it, I don't need any help," I maintained stubbornly, staring south, praying for Sami to get here already.
It only made him intensely interested.
"I can see that," he answered sarcastically. "Well, I'll just wait here with you until Sami comes, then, even though you're so...self-sufficient."
"Suit yourself," I said, blinking back the hot wind that blew my bangs straight back. A look, no doubt, that made him wish he'd never broken up with me.
I had to concentrate here. I couldn't let Charlie in. Not the least bit. I was glad I looked so hideous. Glad I made no effort to look the least bit better. Glad it was no longer important to me what Charlie thought of how I looked.
But I could feel myself slipping.
So I stared harder. Without blinking now. No matter what, Charlie would never have another chance to play me. Even if that wasn't his intention the first time around, I had fallen way too hard. I was never again going to be told, "It's not you, it's me." Whatever that means.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, worried.
"I'm stranded. That's what's wrong," I began to cry. I always cry when I'm frustrated--something I loathe about myself.
"Stranded? What do you mean? Do you need a ride home from work; I'm crossing Third Street, I can be there in two minutes--"
"No! I'm not at work...I'm on the highway. About an hour out of Whiton," I began, "thirty some miles south of Charlie's place."
"An hour out of Whiton? Why?"
Obviously, Sam hadn't been home in a while. "Oh Sami, I've made such a mess of things!" I sobbed.
"No you haven't! What're you talking about? Hold on, I'll be right there, don't move!"
Highway 66 was the only road out of town. You could go north or you could go south but you couldn't get lost. I knew all I could do now was wait.
There was typically no traffic this time of day. Very little traffic at any time of day. Nobody wanted to come to Whiton. The only road with any wear on it was north--a good hundred miles north where the only shopping mall west of the Mississippi and east of the Rockies resides. So I felt safe in lying in the grass and getting some shut-eye.
I don't know how long I lay there when I heard a vehicle approach. It didn't sound like Sami's little rice grinder, it sounded like a truck. A truck I had heard many times before.
"Need a lift?" he hollered, leaning toward the passenger side window.
Charlie. Of course it was Charlie.
"No, I'm okay," I answered, lamely.
"Funny, you don't look okay," he laughed, pulling over and parking.
Great. I was officially a hostage.
"What's up, Beautiful?" he asked, looking more handsome than I remembered.
"Nothing," I couldn't make eye contact, so I began slicing blades of grass open with the edge of my thumbnail.
"Looks like you've got places to go, people to see," he said, pointing to my stuffed Bug.
"Yeah. Looks like it."
"Got radiator problems?" he walked toward the back of the Bug and opened up the hood. "Ooh, this doesn't look good," he announced, taking in a sharp breath.
"Look, Charlie, Sam's on her way, you don't need to help me, I'll be fine," I said irritably. I couldn't help it. I was always defensive when it came to Charlie.
"I can see you'll be fine, of course, who wouldn't be fine...stranded out here in the middle of nowhere, the closest ranch being a good 20 miles in either direction. I'm surprised you got cell service." He looked at me with his eyebrows slightly arched. The way he always looked when he teased me.
"Listen, I'm just going to load up her car and push this over toward the ditch. Whoever wants it can have it. I'm done with it." I dropped the blade of grass I was dissecting and folded my arms over my chest. Still, I couldn't look at him.
"Why're you leaving, anyway? Where are you going?" He looked geniuinely concerned. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about my earlier sentiments. What if he saw me? And here he was being so nice and so helpful. But that wasn't entirely unlike Charlie. If you didn't need him, he'd be right there.
"Don't worry about it, I don't need any help," I maintained stubbornly, staring south, praying for Sami to get here already.
It only made him intensely interested.
"I can see that," he answered sarcastically. "Well, I'll just wait here with you until Sami comes, then, even though you're so...self-sufficient."
"Suit yourself," I said, blinking back the hot wind that blew my bangs straight back. A look, no doubt, that made him wish he'd never broken up with me.
I had to concentrate here. I couldn't let Charlie in. Not the least bit. I was glad I looked so hideous. Glad I made no effort to look the least bit better. Glad it was no longer important to me what Charlie thought of how I looked.
But I could feel myself slipping.
So I stared harder. Without blinking now. No matter what, Charlie would never have another chance to play me. Even if that wasn't his intention the first time around, I had fallen way too hard. I was never again going to be told, "It's not you, it's me." Whatever that means.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Boomerang Girl
I thought that I had made it out of Whiton, the road was open to me and the world felt larger than ever. I rolled my window down, and felt the crisp, chill wind against my face. But instead of the clean scent of fresh air and grass my nose was assaulted by the scent of smoke and my already stinging eyes burned with the smoke I hadn't realized was eminating from my cars engine.
A faint chug-chhhhh whine wheezed from under the hood of my car as I coasted to the side of the road. My car had officially died.
I threw open the door, slamming it hard behind me as I cursed my frustration, kicking aimlessly at the tires until I nearly tripped- instead I sat down, hard, on the ground. Small poufs of dust rose up around me and I watched as the sunlight made them shimmer.
What the hell was I doing? Why was I leaving again? Maybe, I thought, this was a sign. A sign that I was just going to screw myself up if I went to Texas. But I wanted to know where I belonged so badly.
I longed for Samantha; for one of our long, analytical disscussions that somehow always clarified exactly what I was thinking. She could always point out when I was being flighty or unreasonable. Sam had the talent for tearing a situation down to the truth. She gave me the truth, and then allowed me to do with it whatever I decided, but most importantly she stuck by me through the fallout.
Sitting out there on the ground, in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas I realized I didn't have a clue what I was doing. In all that I prided myself in being focused and centered, somewhere along the road out of Whiton I had lost that knowlege of myself.
So, I stood, brushing the dust from my jeans, swiped my cell phone from my car and called Sam, prepared to beg for forgiveness and praying for her understanding.
As the phone rang I couldn't help but realize that less than an hour from the time I had thrown myself from Whiton I was coming back (however unwillingly)- I was the boomerang girl.
A faint chug-chhhhh whine wheezed from under the hood of my car as I coasted to the side of the road. My car had officially died.
I threw open the door, slamming it hard behind me as I cursed my frustration, kicking aimlessly at the tires until I nearly tripped- instead I sat down, hard, on the ground. Small poufs of dust rose up around me and I watched as the sunlight made them shimmer.
What the hell was I doing? Why was I leaving again? Maybe, I thought, this was a sign. A sign that I was just going to screw myself up if I went to Texas. But I wanted to know where I belonged so badly.
I longed for Samantha; for one of our long, analytical disscussions that somehow always clarified exactly what I was thinking. She could always point out when I was being flighty or unreasonable. Sam had the talent for tearing a situation down to the truth. She gave me the truth, and then allowed me to do with it whatever I decided, but most importantly she stuck by me through the fallout.
Sitting out there on the ground, in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas I realized I didn't have a clue what I was doing. In all that I prided myself in being focused and centered, somewhere along the road out of Whiton I had lost that knowlege of myself.
So, I stood, brushing the dust from my jeans, swiped my cell phone from my car and called Sam, prepared to beg for forgiveness and praying for her understanding.
As the phone rang I couldn't help but realize that less than an hour from the time I had thrown myself from Whiton I was coming back (however unwillingly)- I was the boomerang girl.
Route 66
I wasn’t prepared to feel lonely when I finally decided to head south and leave the stuff I couldn’t fit into the back of my ’72 VW Bug in my deserted 8 x 7 room with a note to my roommate, Samantha: “Help yourself to whatever you like. And remember that I think you’re the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me in this one-horse town.”
I packed up and left while she was at work. I knew she’d be worried about me, but she knew I’d been thinking about this. This abandonment. And I couldn't bear a goodbye. I'd had too many of those in my life. And Sam knew it. She'd never be petty enough to hold it against me.
Samantha and I had grown closer than sisters while I lived with her these past many months. We’d stay up until all hours of the night talking, discussing, analyzing, reiterating—coming to many conclusions. Mostly about men. And most of them wrong. We were just trying to figure it all out, Life and its many complexities. While I was grounded and fixated, she was superfluous and flighty. We were a perfect combination. I was going to miss her. And I cried as I pulled out of Whiton’s only gas station, for the last time.
The open road greeted me like a long, lost friend. Beckoning me, really. I wondered why I’d put it off for so long. Probably because of Charlie. I never meant any of my life to be ordered by Charlie, and if you had asked me I would have vehemently denied it, but there was no mistaking it. What is it about emotionally irrelevant relationships that make a girl crazy? They have a way of building prison walls that no one can escape from. Not until you find the weak spot and push just a little bit. And Charlie, although he was the reason for the fortress, was also the weak spot. As soon as I was willing to push it hard enough, it gave way without a fight. Just crumbled right there into a pile of useless rubble.
I drove by his little ranch just south of town and gave it a one-finger salute at 65 mph. It felt good to be rid of him. Completely.
I giggled about the fact that I felt ashamed of my gesture--but not enough to take it back. Charlie deserved more than a drive-by, “Screw you!” But as lonely as I was, I didn’t have the time. Texas was waiting for me. And I knew what that meant.
I packed up and left while she was at work. I knew she’d be worried about me, but she knew I’d been thinking about this. This abandonment. And I couldn't bear a goodbye. I'd had too many of those in my life. And Sam knew it. She'd never be petty enough to hold it against me.
Samantha and I had grown closer than sisters while I lived with her these past many months. We’d stay up until all hours of the night talking, discussing, analyzing, reiterating—coming to many conclusions. Mostly about men. And most of them wrong. We were just trying to figure it all out, Life and its many complexities. While I was grounded and fixated, she was superfluous and flighty. We were a perfect combination. I was going to miss her. And I cried as I pulled out of Whiton’s only gas station, for the last time.
The open road greeted me like a long, lost friend. Beckoning me, really. I wondered why I’d put it off for so long. Probably because of Charlie. I never meant any of my life to be ordered by Charlie, and if you had asked me I would have vehemently denied it, but there was no mistaking it. What is it about emotionally irrelevant relationships that make a girl crazy? They have a way of building prison walls that no one can escape from. Not until you find the weak spot and push just a little bit. And Charlie, although he was the reason for the fortress, was also the weak spot. As soon as I was willing to push it hard enough, it gave way without a fight. Just crumbled right there into a pile of useless rubble.
I drove by his little ranch just south of town and gave it a one-finger salute at 65 mph. It felt good to be rid of him. Completely.
I giggled about the fact that I felt ashamed of my gesture--but not enough to take it back. Charlie deserved more than a drive-by, “Screw you!” But as lonely as I was, I didn’t have the time. Texas was waiting for me. And I knew what that meant.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Holding Back, Holding On
No matter how I looked at my life during that time, I couldn't keep myself from I asking this question, "Why am I still here?"
I had never intended to stay in Whiton, Kansas (population 3,543). But then I did anyway. At one point I had had good, solid reasons behind my choice to stay. My family had asked me to stay close by. I was young, it was my first experience with living alone- I needed the support. But my family was moving away from Whiton, and I was finding out that I was ready to start taking care of myself. Most importantly, I wanted to leave. I wanted to go back to Texas. To all the people who were drawing me back home.
Whiton was a beautiful place, but I could feel myself going more and more stir crazy everyday. It wasn't about Charlie. It hadn't been about him for a long time. The space was so small, and I couldn't keep my mind from turning to the the wide open space that was the setting to so many of my memories.
Now I just had to decide if it was worth it, to fly blind into a whole new world- when I could survive comfortably, if not happily, in this small town which had once felt like enough.
I had never intended to stay in Whiton, Kansas (population 3,543). But then I did anyway. At one point I had had good, solid reasons behind my choice to stay. My family had asked me to stay close by. I was young, it was my first experience with living alone- I needed the support. But my family was moving away from Whiton, and I was finding out that I was ready to start taking care of myself. Most importantly, I wanted to leave. I wanted to go back to Texas. To all the people who were drawing me back home.
Whiton was a beautiful place, but I could feel myself going more and more stir crazy everyday. It wasn't about Charlie. It hadn't been about him for a long time. The space was so small, and I couldn't keep my mind from turning to the the wide open space that was the setting to so many of my memories.
Now I just had to decide if it was worth it, to fly blind into a whole new world- when I could survive comfortably, if not happily, in this small town which had once felt like enough.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Freedom Ain't Exactly Free
Freedom is such a double-edged sword. It’s so deceiving. It allows you to think that the world is open to you. But it’s not. It’s just available to you to open. And that doesn't come without a price. I have always been one of those people who’d walk through a door if I found a doorway. Never one who went around carving out doorways. I let that fall to those smarter than myself, which, as far as I was concerned, meant just about everybody. So I’ve always been content to take what is given and live without the dream that something more could exist. It’s all a part of my anti-risk taking personality.
Looking for a new relationship was infinitely harder than looking for a new job—which I decided I needed to do since I didn’t enjoy working with Charlie anymore. It was fine when I had Chad to throw in his indifferent face. But now that I was Chad-less the thrill was gone. Plus, there’s got to be something better out there than slinging hash. But finding it was nearly impossible in this tiny two-bit town. Not too many jobs to choose from when you’ve got three restaurants and under a dozen stores.
And I felt way too visible for comfort right now. Despite my newfound emotional independence I was a little on the vulnerable side. Why is it when a relationship falls flat on its face—or several relationships in a row—you suddenly feel more noticeable. Like there’s a sign hanging from your neck: Date At Your Own Risk. Then Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You.
Looking for a new relationship was infinitely harder than looking for a new job—which I decided I needed to do since I didn’t enjoy working with Charlie anymore. It was fine when I had Chad to throw in his indifferent face. But now that I was Chad-less the thrill was gone. Plus, there’s got to be something better out there than slinging hash. But finding it was nearly impossible in this tiny two-bit town. Not too many jobs to choose from when you’ve got three restaurants and under a dozen stores.
And I felt way too visible for comfort right now. Despite my newfound emotional independence I was a little on the vulnerable side. Why is it when a relationship falls flat on its face—or several relationships in a row—you suddenly feel more noticeable. Like there’s a sign hanging from your neck: Date At Your Own Risk. Then Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda...
Sometimes, I get so caught up in the what-could-have-beens that I ignore the realities. This was the case with Charlie. In my daydreams we were perfect for each other, but in truth if we were perfect for each other we would be together. It was really just that simple.
And finally, finally, I had accepted that. A weight was lifted off my shoulders. For a moment there was the bewildering lightness about me. I felt that I might float up, off, and away. But then I was just... fine. Just me. It was like I was finally taking off my blinders and seeing the world for what it was: big, full, and waiting for me- if only I would reach beyond my safe little view of the world, where the only risks I took weren't risks at all. It's not a risk if you know the outcome before hand. I knew Charlie would never change, no matter what chances I took on him he would never reach out and because I knew that, he could never break my heart.
Charlie had been my excuse. My reason to not risk myself. So I was taking a chance, breaking away from the familar, and I was terrified... and I was free. Free of anger, towards him and myself. At myself for caring too much, at him for not caring at all.
I was in my apartment, sitting on the worn couch the night I realized all of this (which was ironic
because that was the place that Charlie had instigated The Talk). A movie was blaring from the TV, but I can't recall what it was for the life of me. It was as if the room had fallen away, and I was open and exposed. Bared to myself. And I ran. Outside into the wet, cold night. Away to an old abandoned swing set where I sat, shivering, swinging slowly, long into the night.
The sun came up eventually, as the sun always does. As it will do tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that. My hair was stringy around my face, my shirt was soaked through, and I was in severe danger of coming down with a cold- but I was better. I was moving on. And with that thought I shoved my feet down into the wet dirt, my hands clenching over the cold chain links, and I was flying. I was free.
And finally, finally, I had accepted that. A weight was lifted off my shoulders. For a moment there was the bewildering lightness about me. I felt that I might float up, off, and away. But then I was just... fine. Just me. It was like I was finally taking off my blinders and seeing the world for what it was: big, full, and waiting for me- if only I would reach beyond my safe little view of the world, where the only risks I took weren't risks at all. It's not a risk if you know the outcome before hand. I knew Charlie would never change, no matter what chances I took on him he would never reach out and because I knew that, he could never break my heart.
Charlie had been my excuse. My reason to not risk myself. So I was taking a chance, breaking away from the familar, and I was terrified... and I was free. Free of anger, towards him and myself. At myself for caring too much, at him for not caring at all.
I was in my apartment, sitting on the worn couch the night I realized all of this (which was ironic
because that was the place that Charlie had instigated The Talk). A movie was blaring from the TV, but I can't recall what it was for the life of me. It was as if the room had fallen away, and I was open and exposed. Bared to myself. And I ran. Outside into the wet, cold night. Away to an old abandoned swing set where I sat, shivering, swinging slowly, long into the night.
The sun came up eventually, as the sun always does. As it will do tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that. My hair was stringy around my face, my shirt was soaked through, and I was in severe danger of coming down with a cold- but I was better. I was moving on. And with that thought I shoved my feet down into the wet dirt, my hands clenching over the cold chain links, and I was flying. I was free.
Out of the Blue and Into the Light
Regret is a funny thing. One always immediately regrets anything that causes one pain. And I am no exception to that rule.
Charlie was a regret in a lot of ways. Not just the obvious ones. He was someone I had hung all my hopes on. He started out so good. His overwhelming confidence won me over immediately, but what I didn’t know was it was a complete cover-up for the desperate inadequacies he was trying to hide. All that playful banter that I mistook for swagger was really just a deflector shield. He was actually quite ordinary. Pathetically ordinary. Underneath his highly polished exterior existed a miserably non-descript little boy who only created interesting theatrics when it brought the right kind of attention his way. When he didn’t need it, he shunned it—especially when it came from others—and pretended he hated it. His bravado was a misleading infomercial that was designed to catch and release. He never intended to reel anyone in.
Yet here I was wasting my time regretting him. HIM.
Regret is something reserved for actions you willfully committed. It’s something to be used only in emergencies, when something of great value is at stake. There was no reason to waste my regret on him. He wasn’t that great a catch. Not after I realized he was all an act. When I realized that he was just a simple man with a simple plan: get what you can and get the hell outta Dodge—then blame it on her (his flavor of the week) it was easier to let go. But not without the anger.
I don’t know why or how I fell so hard. Maybe it wasn’t the fall that got me but the falling. I loved the idea of being in love with someone and he was the closest prospect at the time.
Maybe that’s how Chad felt about me. Maybe I was just the easiest one to love at the moment and none of it was even personal. I was beginning to think that that was the case with Charlie. Maybe it wasn’t Charlie I loved, but Love I loved. Then why couldn’t I simply transfer it to Chad, if that’s all there was?
There’s something about naked need that requires my pity. And where there is pity there cannot be attraction. Is that how Charlie saw me?
But I hadn’t seen pity in his eyes when he made his announcement. And I took solace in that. I’d rather be alone than pitied.
I’m not sure Chad felt the same way. I suspect he’d take my pity as long as I came with it. But that would rob him. No one should have to settle for mercy.
School droned on and different guys here and there showed an interest in me. Usually just a passing one. And once in a while, I could detect that familiar rise of testosterone catch Charlie by surprise and make him appear to be scanning my horizons for ships he was planning to battle. But those instances were few and far between and I eventually gave up.
The great thing about letting go is when you actually get to that point, you are able to see things you were blind to while you were keeping a white-knuckled grasp on them. My surrender allowed me a lot of freedom. I got to see a lot of things from the vantage point of a million miles away—the best distance to be from Charlie when he’s in the room. Because of my surrender, I was privileged to watch him snare a couple more girls in his web and witness what it all looks like from the outside.
One in particular caught my attention. It couldn’t help but catch my attention since Libby was paraded in front of me on a daily basis when he would bring her into the group and allow us the privilege of watching her fawn all over him. Her simple-mindedness was aggravating enough that I felt she deserved whatever she got from him. And it became a game—a daily ritual, really—to watch how far she’d go to please him, not knowing yet he was unpleaseable.
Unless you’re a million miles away, you can’t see Charlie for what he is.
He hung onto her longer than anyone before her—even longer than his precious Sara—simply because, I think, she was stupider than the rest. She’d wash his clothes, rub his shoulders, fetch him food on command—anything he asked her to do she’d do. Willingly. Expecting nothing in return, except a shot at the Bigtime one of these days. She, like the rest of us, thought if she tolerated him long enough, he’d finally let her in and she could prove to all his ex-fans that he wasn’t uncrackable, that you just had to have the right combination and he’d open up like a bank vault. And that we were the stupid ones. What delight I took in watching the whole thing, her whole life’s work, come to fruition the day I heard him give her the speech he’d given all of us.
I wonder if she took solace in learning that she had just misunderstood his intentions; that he never liked her like that; that she had read far more into his actions than he ever meant. And I wonder if it came to her the way it came to me: like a lightning bolt out of the clear, blue sky.
Charlie was a regret in a lot of ways. Not just the obvious ones. He was someone I had hung all my hopes on. He started out so good. His overwhelming confidence won me over immediately, but what I didn’t know was it was a complete cover-up for the desperate inadequacies he was trying to hide. All that playful banter that I mistook for swagger was really just a deflector shield. He was actually quite ordinary. Pathetically ordinary. Underneath his highly polished exterior existed a miserably non-descript little boy who only created interesting theatrics when it brought the right kind of attention his way. When he didn’t need it, he shunned it—especially when it came from others—and pretended he hated it. His bravado was a misleading infomercial that was designed to catch and release. He never intended to reel anyone in.
Yet here I was wasting my time regretting him. HIM.
Regret is something reserved for actions you willfully committed. It’s something to be used only in emergencies, when something of great value is at stake. There was no reason to waste my regret on him. He wasn’t that great a catch. Not after I realized he was all an act. When I realized that he was just a simple man with a simple plan: get what you can and get the hell outta Dodge—then blame it on her (his flavor of the week) it was easier to let go. But not without the anger.
I don’t know why or how I fell so hard. Maybe it wasn’t the fall that got me but the falling. I loved the idea of being in love with someone and he was the closest prospect at the time.
Maybe that’s how Chad felt about me. Maybe I was just the easiest one to love at the moment and none of it was even personal. I was beginning to think that that was the case with Charlie. Maybe it wasn’t Charlie I loved, but Love I loved. Then why couldn’t I simply transfer it to Chad, if that’s all there was?
There’s something about naked need that requires my pity. And where there is pity there cannot be attraction. Is that how Charlie saw me?
But I hadn’t seen pity in his eyes when he made his announcement. And I took solace in that. I’d rather be alone than pitied.
I’m not sure Chad felt the same way. I suspect he’d take my pity as long as I came with it. But that would rob him. No one should have to settle for mercy.
School droned on and different guys here and there showed an interest in me. Usually just a passing one. And once in a while, I could detect that familiar rise of testosterone catch Charlie by surprise and make him appear to be scanning my horizons for ships he was planning to battle. But those instances were few and far between and I eventually gave up.
The great thing about letting go is when you actually get to that point, you are able to see things you were blind to while you were keeping a white-knuckled grasp on them. My surrender allowed me a lot of freedom. I got to see a lot of things from the vantage point of a million miles away—the best distance to be from Charlie when he’s in the room. Because of my surrender, I was privileged to watch him snare a couple more girls in his web and witness what it all looks like from the outside.
One in particular caught my attention. It couldn’t help but catch my attention since Libby was paraded in front of me on a daily basis when he would bring her into the group and allow us the privilege of watching her fawn all over him. Her simple-mindedness was aggravating enough that I felt she deserved whatever she got from him. And it became a game—a daily ritual, really—to watch how far she’d go to please him, not knowing yet he was unpleaseable.
Unless you’re a million miles away, you can’t see Charlie for what he is.
He hung onto her longer than anyone before her—even longer than his precious Sara—simply because, I think, she was stupider than the rest. She’d wash his clothes, rub his shoulders, fetch him food on command—anything he asked her to do she’d do. Willingly. Expecting nothing in return, except a shot at the Bigtime one of these days. She, like the rest of us, thought if she tolerated him long enough, he’d finally let her in and she could prove to all his ex-fans that he wasn’t uncrackable, that you just had to have the right combination and he’d open up like a bank vault. And that we were the stupid ones. What delight I took in watching the whole thing, her whole life’s work, come to fruition the day I heard him give her the speech he’d given all of us.
I wonder if she took solace in learning that she had just misunderstood his intentions; that he never liked her like that; that she had read far more into his actions than he ever meant. And I wonder if it came to her the way it came to me: like a lightning bolt out of the clear, blue sky.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Days Pass...
The days passed. Charlie and I didn't speak, it was simpler for him that way. He could pretend we hadn't changed. In the end maybe it was better for me as well, I could be angry at him in silence. God knew, if he had been kind to me it would have broken down that anger and left me to feel all the hurt that I wasn't ready to deal with.
I saw him frequently in those first few days. We were friends with same people. We went to the the same school. If I had avoided him, it would have been obvious how much he still affected me.
So, I pretended that he hadn't hurt me, that I was okay with how we were. That I was better off without him. And it helped. I started to believe in my dream world, but every so often he'd throw a casual word in my direction, a familiar glance my way, and I would be caught in our past dynamic. And in those moments, I missed him. But then one of us would pull back. Move away. Where it was safe.
Charlie was better at this than I was. He could pull himself into his head in a single second. But my heart was written on my face at times, and all I could do was hope he didn't see before I got myself together.
The days passed...
Charlie and I were friends again, in a tentative way. Neither pushing far into the others world. What both changed things was that I was seeing someone. Chad; a sweet boy who cared for me. Charlie was angry at first, I could see it in his posture, his pose when he was around the two of us. Some part of him still cared. But I didn't let this excite me. I didn't let myself follow that dreadful road of, "He cares for me a little... Soon he'll love me and he'll want to be with me." No. If anything, it was a slight upsurgence of testosterone. And I had Chad, who I thought that someday, maybe, I might fall in love with. And in the end, my relationship with Chad made me completely unavailable. Completely off limits, and Charlie knew that I was not the sort who would cheat. I didn't, not even in my thoughts. And so, I was no longer dateable. I was friend-girl. I was a safe bet, as far as we both knew, my feelings for Charles were gone.
So, I pulled myself close to Chad, and he in turn moved himself closer to me. And, one night, at the best of our time together, as we watched movies and talked late into the night, I fell asleep in his arms. I was so happy to wake up there to find him smiling sleepily down at me. He brushed a strand of hair out of my face, and kissed me in spite of my breath... and told me he loved me.
I couldn't honestly say it back, and he understood. But I told him I cared for him. And we held each other for a long, quiet moment.
But that was the best of times, and in the end I could never love him the way he needed me too. I broke up with him one night, and I cried while I did. And then I let him go with the promise that someday, we could be friends.
And as he walked out my front door into the snow, I realized that I still had feelings for Charlie.
It left me aching, wondering why I could feel so much for someone who felt nothing for me, and I couldn't return the love of a sweet caring boy who meant so much to me.
But the days will pass, and things will change. I have to believe that even this will change, fade, and die away until Charlie is nothing but a piece of my past. A piece that I won't regret.
I saw him frequently in those first few days. We were friends with same people. We went to the the same school. If I had avoided him, it would have been obvious how much he still affected me.
So, I pretended that he hadn't hurt me, that I was okay with how we were. That I was better off without him. And it helped. I started to believe in my dream world, but every so often he'd throw a casual word in my direction, a familiar glance my way, and I would be caught in our past dynamic. And in those moments, I missed him. But then one of us would pull back. Move away. Where it was safe.
Charlie was better at this than I was. He could pull himself into his head in a single second. But my heart was written on my face at times, and all I could do was hope he didn't see before I got myself together.
The days passed...
Charlie and I were friends again, in a tentative way. Neither pushing far into the others world. What both changed things was that I was seeing someone. Chad; a sweet boy who cared for me. Charlie was angry at first, I could see it in his posture, his pose when he was around the two of us. Some part of him still cared. But I didn't let this excite me. I didn't let myself follow that dreadful road of, "He cares for me a little... Soon he'll love me and he'll want to be with me." No. If anything, it was a slight upsurgence of testosterone. And I had Chad, who I thought that someday, maybe, I might fall in love with. And in the end, my relationship with Chad made me completely unavailable. Completely off limits, and Charlie knew that I was not the sort who would cheat. I didn't, not even in my thoughts. And so, I was no longer dateable. I was friend-girl. I was a safe bet, as far as we both knew, my feelings for Charles were gone.
So, I pulled myself close to Chad, and he in turn moved himself closer to me. And, one night, at the best of our time together, as we watched movies and talked late into the night, I fell asleep in his arms. I was so happy to wake up there to find him smiling sleepily down at me. He brushed a strand of hair out of my face, and kissed me in spite of my breath... and told me he loved me.
I couldn't honestly say it back, and he understood. But I told him I cared for him. And we held each other for a long, quiet moment.
But that was the best of times, and in the end I could never love him the way he needed me too. I broke up with him one night, and I cried while I did. And then I let him go with the promise that someday, we could be friends.
And as he walked out my front door into the snow, I realized that I still had feelings for Charlie.
It left me aching, wondering why I could feel so much for someone who felt nothing for me, and I couldn't return the love of a sweet caring boy who meant so much to me.
But the days will pass, and things will change. I have to believe that even this will change, fade, and die away until Charlie is nothing but a piece of my past. A piece that I won't regret.
Head of the Class
The problem with Charlie was he wasn't charming. He wasn't funny. He wasn't audacious. He was just Charlie. Unpretentious and immoveable.
He didn't need to be charming; there was nothing fake about him. He was what he was and that's all that he was. He made no apologies. I'm such a sucker for a man who offers no excuses.
Funny? No, he wasn't clever enough to be funny. He was funny in ways that were purely accidental. Like the time he poured his hot chocolate on his shoes when someone asked him for the time. Angelically oblivious. It was the most attractive thing about him.
There was nothing bold about Charlie, either. He was someone who could easily fade into the background. We were a lot alike. We both preferred the background, the wallpaper, the backseat of Life. Like myself, Charlie was bereft of the courage it takes for audacity to settle into the cracks. He was far too timid to be brave. He was simply Charlie. Take him or leave him.
That's what makes it such a loss.
When he told me it was over--when he was done with this--I knew there was to be no discussion; it was simply over. Charlie was not dramatic enough to draw it out into a fight or a barter. He was done and I had no choice but to move on. And intellectually I understood that at the time. When our eyes met, he let his linger--which surprised me, he hardly ever lingered anywhere--but he had no compulsion to pull back when he saw my tears, which came despite my resolve to never let anyone hurt me again. And in those lingering eyes I saw nothing that resembled remorse.
Or even pity.
Just a simple decision made by a simple man for a simple reason I simply didn't understand.
But now, I'm past not understanding. I've passed confusion and moved all the way to the head of the class--where anger sits. Anger's always in the front. Facing the teacher head on. Daring. Taunting. Biding his time.
What the heck, Charlie? Why couldn't you be happy with me? You acted happy. You never sulked or pouted or whined. Why'd you have to take your toys and go home?
I wasted some of my best stuff on you. And you just took it. Shoved it in your back pocket like it was a grocery list. All those vulnerabilities--I handed them to you on a silver platter and you took them; put the platter in a cupboard and slammed it shut. Hard enough it shattered some of your crystal wine glasses--you know, the ones Sara gave you.
And I'm glad.
He didn't need to be charming; there was nothing fake about him. He was what he was and that's all that he was. He made no apologies. I'm such a sucker for a man who offers no excuses.
Funny? No, he wasn't clever enough to be funny. He was funny in ways that were purely accidental. Like the time he poured his hot chocolate on his shoes when someone asked him for the time. Angelically oblivious. It was the most attractive thing about him.
There was nothing bold about Charlie, either. He was someone who could easily fade into the background. We were a lot alike. We both preferred the background, the wallpaper, the backseat of Life. Like myself, Charlie was bereft of the courage it takes for audacity to settle into the cracks. He was far too timid to be brave. He was simply Charlie. Take him or leave him.
That's what makes it such a loss.
When he told me it was over--when he was done with this--I knew there was to be no discussion; it was simply over. Charlie was not dramatic enough to draw it out into a fight or a barter. He was done and I had no choice but to move on. And intellectually I understood that at the time. When our eyes met, he let his linger--which surprised me, he hardly ever lingered anywhere--but he had no compulsion to pull back when he saw my tears, which came despite my resolve to never let anyone hurt me again. And in those lingering eyes I saw nothing that resembled remorse.
Or even pity.
Just a simple decision made by a simple man for a simple reason I simply didn't understand.
But now, I'm past not understanding. I've passed confusion and moved all the way to the head of the class--where anger sits. Anger's always in the front. Facing the teacher head on. Daring. Taunting. Biding his time.
What the heck, Charlie? Why couldn't you be happy with me? You acted happy. You never sulked or pouted or whined. Why'd you have to take your toys and go home?
I wasted some of my best stuff on you. And you just took it. Shoved it in your back pocket like it was a grocery list. All those vulnerabilities--I handed them to you on a silver platter and you took them; put the platter in a cupboard and slammed it shut. Hard enough it shattered some of your crystal wine glasses--you know, the ones Sara gave you.
And I'm glad.
Monday, February 16, 2009
You Won't Understand Until Tomorrow
Was it only a few, short months ago that I took those first, figurative steps towards Charles? You have to understand, I thought we were taking steps together...
It was so new, so completely new, this thing between us. There was a spark in the air when his hand brushed my arm. Electricity when our eyes met. I felt different when he looked at me. Like I was something more than myself. There was a look in his eyes... I couldn't understand it, I doubt I ever will, but it pulled me in and sucked me under, and by the time I realized what was happening I couldn't remember why I had once been so scared to let him in. He was in, and I rather liked it that way.
He shouldn't have been my type. Too much swagger, too much confidence, too much... Just plain too much. But he was. Oh, he so was my type. Charlie had a sort of little boy charm ready hold out a hand and pull you into him. He had such silly, simple delight in the littlest of things. Sometimes, the best times, it was me that could bring that out of him. I never felt more amazing than those times I did something silly, something simple that made him light up from the inside.
I just wish I'd seen his goodbye when it came, in the form of an enveloping, all encompassing embrace. But it came out of the blue. It was unexpected. Silent. Heartbreaking- and I wouldn't see it for what it was until he was long gone. He was too far away from me to reach him. I was too hurt to ever really take a chance on caring that way for him again.
The person I know now and the person was falling for then are separate in my mind. Perhaps one day they will reshape into a single distinct form. Into the real Charlie... Whoever that is.
But for now I am left to attempt to forget him, the look in his eyes, and the feeling of his arm around my shoulder. All I can hope is that I'll understand tomorrow.
It was so new, so completely new, this thing between us. There was a spark in the air when his hand brushed my arm. Electricity when our eyes met. I felt different when he looked at me. Like I was something more than myself. There was a look in his eyes... I couldn't understand it, I doubt I ever will, but it pulled me in and sucked me under, and by the time I realized what was happening I couldn't remember why I had once been so scared to let him in. He was in, and I rather liked it that way.
He shouldn't have been my type. Too much swagger, too much confidence, too much... Just plain too much. But he was. Oh, he so was my type. Charlie had a sort of little boy charm ready hold out a hand and pull you into him. He had such silly, simple delight in the littlest of things. Sometimes, the best times, it was me that could bring that out of him. I never felt more amazing than those times I did something silly, something simple that made him light up from the inside.
I just wish I'd seen his goodbye when it came, in the form of an enveloping, all encompassing embrace. But it came out of the blue. It was unexpected. Silent. Heartbreaking- and I wouldn't see it for what it was until he was long gone. He was too far away from me to reach him. I was too hurt to ever really take a chance on caring that way for him again.
The person I know now and the person was falling for then are separate in my mind. Perhaps one day they will reshape into a single distinct form. Into the real Charlie... Whoever that is.
But for now I am left to attempt to forget him, the look in his eyes, and the feeling of his arm around my shoulder. All I can hope is that I'll understand tomorrow.
Monday, February 9, 2009
A Collection Of Words
1. Jan 20th 09
And I knew it would be your song before the words were sung,
But I knew it couldn't be our song as the chords were strummed.
We played each other so well that we are still ringing with the sound.
Just look what we've found here at the end of our beginning,
Here at the end of expectations
Just look what we've found here at the end of the idea of "us":
The notes fade
As voices crack
-Just like you and I.
We broke ourselves apart and now we're trying to find a new shape
A new way,
A safe way,
Or perhaps simply a silent way
To be.
2. Jan 21st 09
We said we would laugh at the story we were writing
Even if the ending wasn't very funny.
And we said we couldn't cry, no matter how sad the beginning-
But the middle was fair game and we scaled the span through the
Seconds, minutes, and hours,
Ink, letters and -finally- words.
No one knew how to pen the last paragraph,
How to structure the last sentence,
Or how to bear the final aching word.
3. Jan 21st o9 #2
You strung the bow
Aimed the arrow at my heart
But forgot to loose the string.
We're suspended in the moment,
Waiting for you to break or bend,
But in the end
I think I'll walk away
Instead.
From you,
From all of this Don't think I'm judging you
Just know that I'm blaming you
and there aren't words left in my head to build us up
only to break us down.
So I'll leave you alone
Until your arm falls,
Until my guard drops-
Until we're ready to be nothing.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Will The Circle Be Unbroken?
Standing on the corner of 3rd and Vine it hit me out of the blue. This feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was changing between Chad and me and it gripped me like the flu. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't feel anything, least of all the asphalt under my feet. I'd been walking on air since we'd met up again.
We'd known each other a long time ago, but I never paid any attention to him. He was the silently brooding type--the type I'm always drawn to but scared to death of. You never know what's going on under those pensive brows. And you don't know that it wasn't you that caused them to meet up at the nose, so you walk a wide circle around something you desperately want to throw your arms around, hoping he will invite you in. Somehow. Magically. Through no fault of your own.
I'm the kind of person who sits back and waits for life to happen to me. Hoping when it does it'll be good. So afraid of disappointment I am, I'd rather keep it all to myself than put it out there. At least I know what to expect when I expect nothing.
But Chad. Something was different this time. His hair was a little shorter. He'd buffed up a bit. Seemed a little more outgoing. Not incredibly so, but enough that I felt brave enough to shrink my circle and walk just a little closer to him.
We'd known each other a long time ago, but I never paid any attention to him. He was the silently brooding type--the type I'm always drawn to but scared to death of. You never know what's going on under those pensive brows. And you don't know that it wasn't you that caused them to meet up at the nose, so you walk a wide circle around something you desperately want to throw your arms around, hoping he will invite you in. Somehow. Magically. Through no fault of your own.
I'm the kind of person who sits back and waits for life to happen to me. Hoping when it does it'll be good. So afraid of disappointment I am, I'd rather keep it all to myself than put it out there. At least I know what to expect when I expect nothing.
But Chad. Something was different this time. His hair was a little shorter. He'd buffed up a bit. Seemed a little more outgoing. Not incredibly so, but enough that I felt brave enough to shrink my circle and walk just a little closer to him.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Writers Block
The first word is always the worst. It's never the right one. Ever. But at least now that the first word is written (and even, amazingly, the dreaded first sentence) the words will work together with at least some semblance of order.
My lovely compatriate and I are now setting off on into this new venture together. The start of this project has taught me a lesson in my own ability to procrastinate. I have found that I am quite talented in the overused art of laziness. If I could only make a living by the sheer force of laziness... *sighs* ... Well, a girl can dream.
From this point on I hope to chanel my urge to procrastinate into other far more interesting things. Such as this blog. A rather apt phrase comes to mind, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." But then, I am neither a mouse nor a man, so hopefully I will have some luck in this plan of mine.
If you are daring enough to read, than surely I can be motivated enough to write. And now the final word:
Adieu.
My lovely compatriate and I are now setting off on into this new venture together. The start of this project has taught me a lesson in my own ability to procrastinate. I have found that I am quite talented in the overused art of laziness. If I could only make a living by the sheer force of laziness... *sighs* ... Well, a girl can dream.
From this point on I hope to chanel my urge to procrastinate into other far more interesting things. Such as this blog. A rather apt phrase comes to mind, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." But then, I am neither a mouse nor a man, so hopefully I will have some luck in this plan of mine.
If you are daring enough to read, than surely I can be motivated enough to write. And now the final word:
Adieu.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
What's with the name, you ask?
Jud Strunk. 1974 or thereabouts. Just a man with a guitar playing his heart out for the people.
I can see in my mind's eye the cornflower blue album cover with a blonde middle-aged man holding his guitar. But memories are unreliable at best because they tend to be self-serving. I'm not sure if remembering Jud Strunk's album as cornflower blue is self-serving, but history proves if there's an opportunity for something to be self-serving, I don't usually turn it down.
It's a sweet song that made me cry every time I listened to it. Which was over and over. I must have enjoyed crying back then. The song is called, as you may have guessed, A Daisy A Day. Here, I'll show you what made my little eighth grade heart break. Over and over.
I can see in my mind's eye the cornflower blue album cover with a blonde middle-aged man holding his guitar. But memories are unreliable at best because they tend to be self-serving. I'm not sure if remembering Jud Strunk's album as cornflower blue is self-serving, but history proves if there's an opportunity for something to be self-serving, I don't usually turn it down.
It's a sweet song that made me cry every time I listened to it. Which was over and over. I must have enjoyed crying back then. The song is called, as you may have guessed, A Daisy A Day. Here, I'll show you what made my little eighth grade heart break. Over and over.
He remembers the first time he met her
He remembered the first thing she said
He remembered the first time he held her
And the night that she came to his bed
He remembers her sweet way of sayin'
Honey has something gone wrong
He remembered the fun and the teasin'
And the reason he wrote her this song
I'll give you a daisy a day, dear
I'll give you a daisy a day
I'll love you until the rivers run still
And the four winds we know blow away
They would walk down the street in the evening
And for years I would see them go by
And their love that was more than the clothes that they wore
Could be seen in the gleam in their eyes
As a kid they would take me for candy
And I'd love to go taggin' along
We'd hold hands while we walked the corner
And the old man would sing her this song
I'll give you a daisy a day, dear
I'll give you a daisy a day
I'll love you until the rivers run still
And the four winds we know blow away
Now he walks down the street in the evening
And he stops by the old candy store
And I somehow believe he's believin'
He's holdin' her hand like before
For he feels all her love walkin' with him
And he smiles at the things she might say
Then the old man walks up to the hill top
And gives her a daisy a day
I'll give you a daisy a day, dear
I'll give you a daisy a day
I'll love you until the rivers run still
And the four winds we know blow away
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