either I'm blessed with the gift for divination, I'm a prime example of the self-fulfilling prophecy, or I just know myself pretty damn well. because that migraine I knew would arrive following yesterday's visit because of Wednesday's anticipation? the flight wasn't even delayed... and I'm still airsick.
so I've been to the doctor. he likes to talk in metaphors. he uses more metaphors than I do. I think that surpasses the legal limit.
stupid sick feeling icky blicmh...
I guess I want to be coherent, but coherent with a migraine is really hard. still I know that I have a tendency to say, "I'll finish this entry later" and then never do so. and I really do want to talk about yesterday... I don't know whether to push myself through it or just go to bed and hope I wake up tomorrow morning not feeling like a water yoyo (which, just for the record, is a misnomer. I don't know *what* is in those things, but it sure as hell isn't water.)
how far did I get anyway? oh, I got to wanting to be the favorite, and the handful of guyfriends I really worked to have that from - but didn't - with Matt being the lead-in example. ah, Matt. I had a little hope the mystery guest would be him... but I had a little hope the mystery guest would be a lot of people. and I don't think I would have had hope enough to believe it could be who it was. but I'm getting ahead of my insanely slow-pace here. let's backtrack just a little more. history, doomed to rewrite it, et cetera. rewind to Andy.
Andy appeared my sophomore year; we shared classes, but mainly we shared fall play, and the boy was freaking brilliant. he was hilarious, he enjoyed my dorky pastimes, (we sang showtunes to each other, played around with bad accents, had a jousting match with sticks, so on and so forth), I enjoyed everything about him. the few times I payed attention in English that year, it was to Andy; I would have sufferd greatly if I'd paid attention to the instructor. Andy and I did a scene from Antigone together. we were the only kids actually in drama in the class, and when we finished, people were all astonished, and we jokingly said, "Come see the fall play!" because... while we had a short stint as "Chorus" and "Antigone" - we spent the fall as Abby Brewster and (not that) Dr. Einstein.
in a lot of ways - at least, from my perspective - all systems were go for us to go out. meaning, of course, all systems except for my own ...understanding... of sexuality identity, my own desire to be a part of that sort of relationship. Scott gave me a ride home one day and explained that straight fifteen-year-old boys do not have jousting matches with fifteen-year-old girls because it's fun. this seemed sort of ridiculous to me; after all, I picked a stick up from the elementary playground and had a jousting match just for fun. but no, I was to understand that this was flirting. that there had been a lot of flirting... and because I probably wanted it (even though I really didn't want it, was afraid to want it) I believed him. in fact, I'd thought that might be true before Scott commented; maybe I'd even hoped. but when he told me, when I realized it could be reality, I fell apart... because really, I didn't want it. when I thought about what it actually meant, not just the "I pick you" moment... but all the one-on-one time and the kissing and the dates... I didn't want it. and I didn't want to lose my friend. I didn't want to 'hurt' him.
either it wasn't true or he caught onto my "I don't date; I'm asexual" scam and didn't challenge it. we met in the fall of 2000, and by February I was homebound. eventually, (I think after I got back from Rogers) I heard that he and one of my other best friends were dating. I had a really sad-jealous reaction. I felt replaced, I guess. I felt like I could have been the one he wanted, but I'd gone away, I'd been sick, I'd stopped it from happening... and so he started going out with someone I really love, someone who could laugh at the things I used to laugh at. I don't mean to say their relationship wasn't their own, wasn't real with its own merit; it lasted a few years, and I definitely think it was valid... I just remember the sting of feeling that he'd found someone else who laughed at his antics, and I hadn't found someone else to make me laugh...
even the livehard asexual can't escape a love-triangle here and there... apparently. & it's a very strange feeling... caring so much about someone and wanting so much for that affection to 'fit' the only close-relational-category that really exists - or the only one I caught onto - in high school. and there was the added confusion of - well, obviously thinking I *had to be straight* if I had a sexuality - but even moreso... my connection to people was so high, the energy of it was so strong, (is), that it was always - to an extent - physical. so when my heart got all skippy around them and I wanted to dance and spin with them and kiss their cheek or mouth or eyelid or nose... I used it as evidence: "well, see. I'm not entirely against having a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. there are parts of this I want."
but what I really wanted was a best friend. what I really wanted was connection... any sexual feelings I had were so deeply buried at that point, I haven't the slightest idea what they were. but having seen really close high school/ college age friends together, having heard those relationships described - I realize that's what I want. I didn't understand that I was in a world (maybe I wasn't in this world) where I could continually lie around with someone, kiss them hello, goodbye, or out of spontaneous excitement; really connect with them; have a strong private as well as public relationship and not be dating. Or going out, or whatever the hell it's called these days. if I'd understood that, if I'd felt safe with that - and I didn't; I was just coming out of my "no one touches me and I touch no one" phase and only beginning to understand that I am a *total* proponent of touchy-feely affection - I might have felt less insane with these guys. and who knows what would have happened with the girls. but instead I went to Rogers, where (believe it or not...) it wasn't safe to figure that one out - so I didn't (quite) go there, came back, and got all the way through to having Dr. R as a therapist before the subject was ever discussed at length in a session. (Or, as of now, brought up repeatedly in sessions.) and now I have no idea what's going on with Andy, or how Matt is... and until yesterday, I had no idea about the one other person who comes to mind when I think about these relationships. (I think there were others, but three's a good number, and these were the ones I really recall being charged.) the mystery guest was Jarrod. "my Jarrod" I'm tempted to say, although I've never called him that before. my Jarrod because I can think of at least two people who would confirm that we did seem to be superglued together, that we were unbelievably close. (two people other than him and me... I'm afraid to trust my own memory, and I'm afraid to ask him about his.) but anyway. we got close in eighth grade; he could make me laugh - and went to the trouble to do so - even when I was really, really depressed and withdrawn. freshman year, we became pretty much a single unit especially for phys ed. and English, and he took up the role of my "interpreter" - repeating what I whispered under my breath at an audible voice, thereby moving forward class discussions... he had a strong relationship with Chas and felt the same *intense* desire to visit her. so we did. after freshman year, we started a comic together, based on an hilarious concept we came up with during our last p.e. class... sophomore year, we spent less time together, but still had classes, still told old jokes, still came up with new ones. occasionally one or the other of the two people I guarantee could verify the "JarrodandMary" ness of it (or "MaryandJarrod" for that matter) would ask about him, and I wouldn't know enough to report effectively... and they would show surprise. I'd have to say, "no, I haven't seen him as much," or "we haven't been spending so much time together" and one woman in particular always looked sort of disappointed... because to her, we'd always been a duo, I guess. and when it happened, I was disappointed, too.
I saw him the second-to-last-time I set foot on school grounds, the last time before school let out, the last time I went to a school function. (no, that's a lie. I went to the musical after this, but that was on a different campus...and... yeah. forget it. not important.) I had a goddawful experience at the event - our annual Cabaret - for several reasons, and the five seconds I spent with Jarrod wasn't really an exception. suck. we had an awkward moment that I don't remember well enough to analyze and then he said something about getting back to the girl he was there with... the girl who has been his best friend for the past three years. and I remember that same "but it's not fair! but what about me?!" jealousy... one of the things I never would have admitted to feeling. because since when did I feel jealous and since when did I want someone to be anywhere 'with' me? (er, always. hush-hush.) that was our last hurrah, until he stepped out of Shandi's car yesterday, three years older, changed to the point I had to stare at him until I found his three-years-younger counterpart wrapped in his nearly-adult face and collapsed into disbelief. I had no idea Jarrod would have any desire to see me ever again. I had no idea he and Shandi saw each other at all, let alone hung out enough that he would come with her. and I had no idea what it would stir up for me to have him in my apartment - we're alone in the kitchen for half a second, we're looking through my mom's books, he's looking through mine...
he's studying psych, he's learning Chinese... he just got back from China and the word for movie translates to "electric shadow." "do you want to hear something crude?" he said and told me before I could say no, which was probably true, but not enough to make me say so. and he passed along a crude remark, just like he used to do in high school. we were comfortable, fabulously comfortable - slipping back into the ease of freshman year - but we were doing it without losing any of the progress/ growth we've both made/ sustained since we were seeing each other everyday. it was like getting to pick up where we left off, but not having to lose the fact that we're three years older, three years better, three years cooler. I couldn't believe he managed to get more awesome. but hey... I managed it, didn't I?
and he said, "after you left." and I don't know why - maybe because that verb haunts me so relentlessly - but the fact that he could talk of time in terms of "right after you left", "after you left" etc... it was like the first time I felt someone had recognized my absence. I don't think it's actually the first time, but it felt new all over again. like I wasn't just 'missing' from an in tact Neverland. like I hadn't faded into myth or empty air or one of my friends... like I hadn't been there, which is the truth. and I don't want it to be - a part of my heart is just raw from regretting that I wasn't his best friend these three years... but it is the truth. and I'm so grateful to him for noticing I was absent every day of high school since February 22nd, 2001. I'm so grateful to him for missing me... because he must have missed me - to come visit ... he must have wanted me.
and he borrowed the Ramayana from me, as well as a few books from my mom, so he has to come back. (I told him he has to come back because he wants to see me, too, and he "grudgingly" admitted that...) he gave me his IM screennames, and we ended up posed in a picture all naturally, and I happened to have a camera on my desk, so there will be a snapshot. of a rather important "us." which is just spectacular to me; it seems miraculous.
I'm finally starting to understand that I'm not going to track down and resume relationship with everyone I liked in N*land... and then Heather gets a livejournal, putting us in daily contact... and Jarrod is my mystery guest. Life is weird, but this is not a brand of weird I mind...
I have more stories about the actual visit, and tales from today's rather unique and somewhat amusing session... but once again I'm going to save it for tomorrow (and once again - "if the good lord's willin' and the creek don't rise") I'll actually pick it up tomorrow and 'finish' the tale.
have to leave a few loose strands to substantiate our spin-offs. Mary and Jarrod: (what are generally referred to as) The College Years.
my heart is best friend mush.
~me