Wrote this the last Xmas I was in the City, probably '04? so f'ing tired... didn't sleep agian last night.. not sure what my deal is....
December 14th....
The kid sat on the flex ball and stared at the two gifts sitting on his floor. They where wrapped in a white paper. The paper was covered with pine needles and cones with little red ribbon rounding out the holiday pattern. He smiled bemusedly to himself at the jagged corners, and the wrinkles that freckled the gifts. He had wrapped them himself, spent his entire Saturday night doing it, and when he was finished wrapping the gifts there was a sense of pride that had washed over him.
However that pride was now gone, vanished in less than twelve hours. He looked at the gifts and felt ashamed. He looked at the gifts and thought about taking them back, but he had already pitched the receipts. "Idiot!" He called himself over and over. "You are so fucking stupid!" He looked away and out the window and gazed at the falling rain. He looked at the gifts and a familiar pain returned to his stomach. He wanted to be sick. He felt sick. He felt stupid. So he just kept looking at the gifts and turning his thoughts over and over in his mind, like a line chief working over a well down burger.
He thought back to earlier that morning, less than two and half hours ago to be exact, and the anxiety he felt as he approached her apartment. There last meeting had not been so pleasant. It was your typical interaction between the two. Talking, giggling, and flirting, yes there was always flirting. The kid never knew how to take that part of it. He had hoped it meant something more.
Although there had been signs that is was nothing more than harmless flirting. She had told him she was a flirt and that sometimes guys took that a little to seriously. She had canceled plans with him more than once. She only talked about herself and her world. She never emailed him unless he emailed first. She never called unless he called first and she never asked him to do anything.
There was chemistry though. Others had seen it. They had commented on how cute they where together. However that was long in the past when such comments where made, but six months later he still hung on to them. He still dreamed of being with her, of her making him happy. However, he knew he was not happy with himself and that in it self is for another time. He told people he just wanted to be friends but deep inside he wanted her. He longed for her touch, her approval, and her love.
People never understood his hang up on her, or why he could just not walk away and just be her friend. She wanted at least that, or so it had appeared. People at work and at home where sick of the constant talking of her, that was what always dominated his thoughts, his every thought bent on her, wondering when she would fall for him, wondering if she would.
The kid obsessed over her. Like some many before, he looked at the presents and hung his head in shame. He felt like he had failed himself. He felt that all of his self-growth in since leaving his homeland had been for not. He felt like the same foolish teenager that stood at Erica's locker in the ninth grade, wanting her to accept him again, like she had before, though she never would.
He hated himself for obsessing! He did! It is true; the kid hated every minute of it. He hating obsessing so much he had begun to hide himself from the world. Hiding in his room sitting at this computer typing nonsense about vampires, and aliens, and a story or two about Indiana.
But he stared at the presents, and obsessed. He stared and stared and thought about getting up but he could not. He was in a trance, dancing with this morning events. Wrestling with what his audience already knew. Things that had been becoming clear that he did not want to admit or see. That the only game being played was the one in his mind!
He practiced the conversations the whole way to her place. Going through every scenario. She had told him she had plans, although he tried not to make much of it, he could not help it. She was so vague about her plans. She was never that vague before, well not really.
Anyway, his plan "asks her if she had a good time." Then she would say yes and "I did this and he would find out she went dancing with Veronica or Fred. Blah, blah, blah…" Then his worries could be subsided and they could go back to their games and he could still hold onto that small glimmer of hope her had!
He had to act pleasant because the last time they had talked he had been such a grouch. Of course he got upset because the last meeting had not gone as he planned and as a matter of fact it went rather awful or so in his mind it did.
Still staring at the presents the kid thought about being in her driveway, listening to "In Utero" waiting for her to come out. She finally came running out and hopped in the car. He was very excited; he always was when he saw her. They exchanged morning pleasantries and he pulled off into the street, heading for the Mission.
"Do you know where you are going?" She asked.
"Sort of?" The kid replied.
"Good, because I have know idea." She replied, "Plus, I am very tired, I did not get home until 6:00 a.m."
"Wow, out till six, that must have been a great party?"
"No, not really a party, and I got home at six, I was not out till six" She replied.
"Did, you have a good time last night?" He asked as they turned onto 19th Avenue.
"It was ok. Nothing special."
Hmm, still very vague, he thought to himself. Very strange, the kid said in his head. What is going on here? Instead of retreating he pursued.
"So what did you do?" He asked again.
"I can not tell you." She said.
His heart stopped as he traveled down Nineteenth Avenue. His stomach started to feel queasy and sadness washed over him.
"What do you mean you can not tell me?" He persisted.
"I did not do anything special, just you know."
"Well you where out till six a.m. it must have been some time indeed."
"I was not out till six a.m. that is when I got home." She said again.
"And you can not tell me what you did?" The kid said as he sat behind a bus getting ready to turn down Lincoln Avenue.
"No, not really" She said again.
He was too intrigued now, he could not let this go, he had to know and he was surprised when the next words came out of his mouth as he head towards the mission on Lincoln.
"What did you have a date or something?"
"What a date, no" He was relieved, so relieved. "I do not date anymore." He was so happy now; he was all worked up over nothing, obsessing over nothing. What a fool.
Now staring at the presents he wishes she had stopped there. However she did not and she went on to say "Well not really, anyway"
Those words are what the kid was turning over and had been for the last hour as he stared at the gifts he had bought for her. As he replayed ever email message and conversation they had over the last six months. As he heard those words the game suddenly ended and he felt as if he had lost. Lost badly. He felt like an idiot, he was pissed; he was upset, he felt sick. All he could think about was those words. However there where words that disturbed him even more.
"What did you have a fling or something?" The kid asked next, still surprised he had walked this path.
"Well?" She said, "that all depends on how you define fling?"
He lost his breath, his hearted raced, and his mind had a train wreck. Did she just say that? What just happened here? This is not how the conversation was supposed to go. This was not the way he had played it out in his mind.
He stared at the presents. His mind grasped at his glimmer, and tried to hold onto the that small little amount of hope that he still had, and the illusion she could fell for him in the same way he thought he felt for her. However, with those small vague words his grip became slippery and the weight of the situation was more than he could hold onto. As he stared at the presents, and the hope became to heavy, and he let go.
The kid sat on the flex ball and stared at the two gifts sitting on his floor. They where wrapped in a white paper. The paper was covered with pine needles and cones with little red ribbon rounding out the holiday pattern. He smiled bemusedly to himself at the jagged corners, and the wrinkles that freckled the gifts. He had wrapped them himself, spent his entire Saturday night doing it, and when he was finished wrapping the gifts there was a sense of pride that had washed over him.
However that pride was now gone, vanished in less than twelve hours. He looked at the gifts and felt ashamed. He looked at the gifts and thought about taking them back, but he had already pitched the receipts. "Idiot!" He called himself over and over. "You are so fucking stupid!" He looked away and out the window and gazed at the falling rain. He looked at the gifts and a familiar pain returned to his stomach. He wanted to be sick. He felt sick. He felt stupid. So he just kept looking at the gifts and turning his thoughts over and over in his mind, like a line chief working over a well down burger.
He thought back to earlier that morning, less than two and half hours ago to be exact, and the anxiety he felt as he approached her apartment. There last meeting had not been so pleasant. It was your typical interaction between the two. Talking, giggling, and flirting, yes there was always flirting. The kid never knew how to take that part of it. He had hoped it meant something more.
Although there had been signs that is was nothing more than harmless flirting. She had told him she was a flirt and that sometimes guys took that a little to seriously. She had canceled plans with him more than once. She only talked about herself and her world. She never emailed him unless he emailed first. She never called unless he called first and she never asked him to do anything.
There was chemistry though. Others had seen it. They had commented on how cute they where together. However that was long in the past when such comments where made, but six months later he still hung on to them. He still dreamed of being with her, of her making him happy. However, he knew he was not happy with himself and that in it self is for another time. He told people he just wanted to be friends but deep inside he wanted her. He longed for her touch, her approval, and her love.
People never understood his hang up on her, or why he could just not walk away and just be her friend. She wanted at least that, or so it had appeared. People at work and at home where sick of the constant talking of her, that was what always dominated his thoughts, his every thought bent on her, wondering when she would fall for him, wondering if she would.
The kid obsessed over her. Like some many before, he looked at the presents and hung his head in shame. He felt like he had failed himself. He felt that all of his self-growth in since leaving his homeland had been for not. He felt like the same foolish teenager that stood at Erica's locker in the ninth grade, wanting her to accept him again, like she had before, though she never would.
He hated himself for obsessing! He did! It is true; the kid hated every minute of it. He hating obsessing so much he had begun to hide himself from the world. Hiding in his room sitting at this computer typing nonsense about vampires, and aliens, and a story or two about Indiana.
But he stared at the presents, and obsessed. He stared and stared and thought about getting up but he could not. He was in a trance, dancing with this morning events. Wrestling with what his audience already knew. Things that had been becoming clear that he did not want to admit or see. That the only game being played was the one in his mind!
He practiced the conversations the whole way to her place. Going through every scenario. She had told him she had plans, although he tried not to make much of it, he could not help it. She was so vague about her plans. She was never that vague before, well not really.
Anyway, his plan "asks her if she had a good time." Then she would say yes and "I did this and he would find out she went dancing with Veronica or Fred. Blah, blah, blah…" Then his worries could be subsided and they could go back to their games and he could still hold onto that small glimmer of hope her had!
He had to act pleasant because the last time they had talked he had been such a grouch. Of course he got upset because the last meeting had not gone as he planned and as a matter of fact it went rather awful or so in his mind it did.
Still staring at the presents the kid thought about being in her driveway, listening to "In Utero" waiting for her to come out. She finally came running out and hopped in the car. He was very excited; he always was when he saw her. They exchanged morning pleasantries and he pulled off into the street, heading for the Mission.
"Do you know where you are going?" She asked.
"Sort of?" The kid replied.
"Good, because I have know idea." She replied, "Plus, I am very tired, I did not get home until 6:00 a.m."
"Wow, out till six, that must have been a great party?"
"No, not really a party, and I got home at six, I was not out till six" She replied.
"Did, you have a good time last night?" He asked as they turned onto 19th Avenue.
"It was ok. Nothing special."
Hmm, still very vague, he thought to himself. Very strange, the kid said in his head. What is going on here? Instead of retreating he pursued.
"So what did you do?" He asked again.
"I can not tell you." She said.
His heart stopped as he traveled down Nineteenth Avenue. His stomach started to feel queasy and sadness washed over him.
"What do you mean you can not tell me?" He persisted.
"I did not do anything special, just you know."
"Well you where out till six a.m. it must have been some time indeed."
"I was not out till six a.m. that is when I got home." She said again.
"And you can not tell me what you did?" The kid said as he sat behind a bus getting ready to turn down Lincoln Avenue.
"No, not really" She said again.
He was too intrigued now, he could not let this go, he had to know and he was surprised when the next words came out of his mouth as he head towards the mission on Lincoln.
"What did you have a date or something?"
"What a date, no" He was relieved, so relieved. "I do not date anymore." He was so happy now; he was all worked up over nothing, obsessing over nothing. What a fool.
Now staring at the presents he wishes she had stopped there. However she did not and she went on to say "Well not really, anyway"
Those words are what the kid was turning over and had been for the last hour as he stared at the gifts he had bought for her. As he replayed ever email message and conversation they had over the last six months. As he heard those words the game suddenly ended and he felt as if he had lost. Lost badly. He felt like an idiot, he was pissed; he was upset, he felt sick. All he could think about was those words. However there where words that disturbed him even more.
"What did you have a fling or something?" The kid asked next, still surprised he had walked this path.
"Well?" She said, "that all depends on how you define fling?"
He lost his breath, his hearted raced, and his mind had a train wreck. Did she just say that? What just happened here? This is not how the conversation was supposed to go. This was not the way he had played it out in his mind.
He stared at the presents. His mind grasped at his glimmer, and tried to hold onto the that small little amount of hope that he still had, and the illusion she could fell for him in the same way he thought he felt for her. However, with those small vague words his grip became slippery and the weight of the situation was more than he could hold onto. As he stared at the presents, and the hope became to heavy, and he let go.
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