Wishing is for regrets. But, frankly, if I had one personal life-wish, it would be that I could go back to 2007 and get it out of my system. Because, as we're told over and over again, hindsight and all that noise, right? Not that everything was bad this year. It wasn't despite the job thing, the two car accident thing, the break up, the money woes, lost never to be found friends, and strangely, the second break up. Been able to keep my family afloat somewhat since the new job worked out (which hopefully will turn into something more substantial come the new year). Ironically (or not), I'm at my healthiest since 2007. I can afford to, you know, live. And my family - god love them, but they drive me crazy! - is still all intact and my nephew seems to melt my tiny snowflake of a heart every time.
But also with hindsight, I've arrived to a few things about myself that I never really considered, and it's one of the things about Corey, irritating though he can be, I really liked. In 2007, all this would've been much more useful to me (or not, who the fuck really knows?). Thing is, as recently as last week, Golden and I were talking, and I heard myself say words about Terry that I think Corey's friends or his mom probably said to him about me. Over the last couple of years, this happened a lot. And, I'll own up to it: my lack of security, my lack of openness, not just with him but my family, my lack of intimacy, my distance, my insecurity, my wavering commitment. Yes, these are all things that are true and caustic. But all of this isn't anything new. It's old news. And as I told my best friend, it's a wonder why Corey even decided I was a fair gable early this year. Again. It's a wonder why he stuck around as long as he did. Because when it was good, it was pretty much what I suppose people in a cliche sort of way call magic.
Then I get to thinking, why did I even bother. With any of it. All of it. What was it about this boy that made me do stupidly out of character things. Looking back (as I ever do), I guess I really liked being able to laugh and reflect and connect and relate to a person. He's been only the second person I've been with who was my age (everyone else has been younger, and thus, useless), and I thought he got me whatever that's supposed to mean. He was insightful and bright and fun. But, thinking about it, what was I thinking? He was also so very much unlike me, I'm not certain that it would've worked. I have talking this way because it sounds like bullshit like fate and destiny. But so removed from it - and I wondered out loud many times, to be sure - it just looks like a mess. It looks like we both went into it with great intentions and were hoping for the best. Of course, it didn't come, for either of us.
When we were at the train station to go off to San Diego, there was a little bit of an incident. We didn't know where to go to wait for our train so we went in line to ask at the info desk. When it was our turn, he asked the girl where we were supposed to be, she said to him we should just form a line there, and they'll lead us there, he asked if she could just tell him where the train would arrive, she said she didn't know until it arrived, he said she wasn't being helpful, she reiterated again to just make a line, he copped a nasty attitude said she just didn't want to tell him and he nearly stormed away. I saw the black couple a few spaces behind us just look at him in the same manner people look at someone writing a check at the supermarket for $1. I couldn't believe this had happened.
I don't mean to come off as calling him irrational, because I don't think he is, but this little bit has stuck with me all this time because, again, looking back, it was just a precursor. I should've already known what it be like. I should've known that I did not want to go through my own little conflict at the train station over and over and over again. But, I'm sure I said, Fuck it, we're off to San Diego!" And the thing is I hate stuff like that in people: getting all shitty on someone doing their job, getting a nasty ass attitude while complaining, and inconveniencing others. It's so fucking retarded but it's the fucking truth! Before, I'd joke about never dating someone who returns a gift. Getting all up on the train station girl's face because she can't (or won't, who the fuck cares) answer your question is the same.
As I'm sure it was with him, every time he brought up things I entirely disagreed with, however banal or deep they were, I couldn't believe this was the person I felt I should be with. Whether it was clothes, or God, or work, or politics, books, cartoons, marriage, food, kids, strangers, sex, television, music, family, a lot of the time I couldn't believe what I was hearing, what I saw. God knows what he thought of me. And it makes me wonder, why then did I think this was a viable option?
I think it was my weird hop that he would just relax with me. That he would stop taking everything so damn seriously. He was worried so damn much when people I don't know would announce their engagements, I just wanted him to stop. He'd complain about me spending the night, I wish he would just stop. He would talk about how beautiful everyone else was and how much he wanted to be like them, and I wanted him to stop. He worried so much about ticket sales for his show, and I just wanted him to stop. But I never said so, and he never did. It was ridiculous of me, of course, to think that this man would change so much about himself just because I wanted him to. But even then, at some points, when he gave me the out to just not be together, I recoiled at the idea of him being with someone else, and I told him I didn't want him to see anyone else. Why did I do that? Did I really think he'd change in the ways I wanted? Did I think I could do the things he wanted me to? Did I really want him and I to work out, long term? Did I even want that, period? These are the things that I think about a lot.
Funny sort of thing is, now that he decided to just be a stranger with me again, I think back to 2007 because we maybe exchanged a few emails or myspace comments that year (which don't include the ones about HIV). I think he was with someone, and I wasn't even considering anything relationshipy with anyone. But, I remember telling Golden, back then, about this internet friend I'd made. I remember saying to her I liked him because he seemed more interesting than the people I knew personally at the time. I could be mangling it, my memory is terrible. But I remember him being flirty with me in a message or two, and I remember thinking how often I was in West Hollywood and how we'd not met (we'd "known" each other for about a year then, he lives in Hollywod). But I brushed it aside. I thought he'd be a good friend to have, even just on the internet. I remember him telling me he'd call me back this one time when I actually >gasp!< called him, but he didn't, and that was fine. But, after what we've been through together, and due to each other, I think back and wish I could go back to 2007 with him. Because it was easy then, and I didn't know all these things and neither did he. We could've kept going that way for however long we would. And, I, of course, would stop thinking about what a shitty friend he turned out to be.
He's shitty because he hurt me. He set out to do so, and god damn it, it worked.
One of the last times we were out, he took me to his favorite restaurant. He was right: I hated the place. Pretentious atmosphere, douchebaggery at every corner, and a menu that did not seem at all appetizing. But we had a good walk through the art scene (kill me the fuck now!) just before, and he wanted to show me somewhere he loved. As I said, nothing looks particularly good but a Thai burger (say what?), and he always orders steak (there's a reason for that, I'm sure), and he asked me what I was going to have and I told him, and he got this odd look on his face and said, "Really?" and it made me feel like he was saying, "Really? We're at this expensive nice restaurant and you're going to have a burger?" and it made me feel, don't laugh, as if my food order wasn't good enough for him. Isn't that so fucking retarded? Waitress arrives and takes our order. Later, more than halfway through bad chicken, and his steak, he notices it's pink. He's been eating it this entire time and it's only now that he wants it cooked better. Waitress takes it back to do so three times (or was it two? Does it really matter when the piece of meat in question was the size of his thumb?) until it was good enough for him to take home.
You might think me petty, but these are the kinds of things that when I think about them make me see that I should've known better. I mean, I did. But I did it anyway.
Anyway, it isn't all his fault by a longshot. I admit it. But now, I'm just thinking, what I was trying to do. And for what, and for whom. I don't wish bad things for him, but I'm also not insane: he turned out to be girl-levels of crazy, and a bad person. Instead of thinking more like this, because I am pretty tired of myself having this bullshit conversation with my best friend (I'm sure she doesn't want to listen to me bitch, either), I'll do what I wanted him to do all that time, and just stop.
In 2007 I was younger and still believed I was indestructible.
"Everything is so fragile. There’s so much conflict, so much pain. You keep waiting for the dust to settle and then you realize this is it: the dust is your life going on. If happy comes along, that weird, and unbearable delight that’s actual happy—I think you have to grab it while you can. You take what you can get. ‘cause it’s here, and then…gone."
But also with hindsight, I've arrived to a few things about myself that I never really considered, and it's one of the things about Corey, irritating though he can be, I really liked. In 2007, all this would've been much more useful to me (or not, who the fuck really knows?). Thing is, as recently as last week, Golden and I were talking, and I heard myself say words about Terry that I think Corey's friends or his mom probably said to him about me. Over the last couple of years, this happened a lot. And, I'll own up to it: my lack of security, my lack of openness, not just with him but my family, my lack of intimacy, my distance, my insecurity, my wavering commitment. Yes, these are all things that are true and caustic. But all of this isn't anything new. It's old news. And as I told my best friend, it's a wonder why Corey even decided I was a fair gable early this year. Again. It's a wonder why he stuck around as long as he did. Because when it was good, it was pretty much what I suppose people in a cliche sort of way call magic.
Then I get to thinking, why did I even bother. With any of it. All of it. What was it about this boy that made me do stupidly out of character things. Looking back (as I ever do), I guess I really liked being able to laugh and reflect and connect and relate to a person. He's been only the second person I've been with who was my age (everyone else has been younger, and thus, useless), and I thought he got me whatever that's supposed to mean. He was insightful and bright and fun. But, thinking about it, what was I thinking? He was also so very much unlike me, I'm not certain that it would've worked. I have talking this way because it sounds like bullshit like fate and destiny. But so removed from it - and I wondered out loud many times, to be sure - it just looks like a mess. It looks like we both went into it with great intentions and were hoping for the best. Of course, it didn't come, for either of us.
When we were at the train station to go off to San Diego, there was a little bit of an incident. We didn't know where to go to wait for our train so we went in line to ask at the info desk. When it was our turn, he asked the girl where we were supposed to be, she said to him we should just form a line there, and they'll lead us there, he asked if she could just tell him where the train would arrive, she said she didn't know until it arrived, he said she wasn't being helpful, she reiterated again to just make a line, he copped a nasty attitude said she just didn't want to tell him and he nearly stormed away. I saw the black couple a few spaces behind us just look at him in the same manner people look at someone writing a check at the supermarket for $1. I couldn't believe this had happened.
I don't mean to come off as calling him irrational, because I don't think he is, but this little bit has stuck with me all this time because, again, looking back, it was just a precursor. I should've already known what it be like. I should've known that I did not want to go through my own little conflict at the train station over and over and over again. But, I'm sure I said, Fuck it, we're off to San Diego!" And the thing is I hate stuff like that in people: getting all shitty on someone doing their job, getting a nasty ass attitude while complaining, and inconveniencing others. It's so fucking retarded but it's the fucking truth! Before, I'd joke about never dating someone who returns a gift. Getting all up on the train station girl's face because she can't (or won't, who the fuck cares) answer your question is the same.
As I'm sure it was with him, every time he brought up things I entirely disagreed with, however banal or deep they were, I couldn't believe this was the person I felt I should be with. Whether it was clothes, or God, or work, or politics, books, cartoons, marriage, food, kids, strangers, sex, television, music, family, a lot of the time I couldn't believe what I was hearing, what I saw. God knows what he thought of me. And it makes me wonder, why then did I think this was a viable option?
I think it was my weird hop that he would just relax with me. That he would stop taking everything so damn seriously. He was worried so damn much when people I don't know would announce their engagements, I just wanted him to stop. He'd complain about me spending the night, I wish he would just stop. He would talk about how beautiful everyone else was and how much he wanted to be like them, and I wanted him to stop. He worried so much about ticket sales for his show, and I just wanted him to stop. But I never said so, and he never did. It was ridiculous of me, of course, to think that this man would change so much about himself just because I wanted him to. But even then, at some points, when he gave me the out to just not be together, I recoiled at the idea of him being with someone else, and I told him I didn't want him to see anyone else. Why did I do that? Did I really think he'd change in the ways I wanted? Did I think I could do the things he wanted me to? Did I really want him and I to work out, long term? Did I even want that, period? These are the things that I think about a lot.
Funny sort of thing is, now that he decided to just be a stranger with me again, I think back to 2007 because we maybe exchanged a few emails or myspace comments that year (which don't include the ones about HIV). I think he was with someone, and I wasn't even considering anything relationshipy with anyone. But, I remember telling Golden, back then, about this internet friend I'd made. I remember saying to her I liked him because he seemed more interesting than the people I knew personally at the time. I could be mangling it, my memory is terrible. But I remember him being flirty with me in a message or two, and I remember thinking how often I was in West Hollywood and how we'd not met (we'd "known" each other for about a year then, he lives in Hollywod). But I brushed it aside. I thought he'd be a good friend to have, even just on the internet. I remember him telling me he'd call me back this one time when I actually >gasp!< called him, but he didn't, and that was fine. But, after what we've been through together, and due to each other, I think back and wish I could go back to 2007 with him. Because it was easy then, and I didn't know all these things and neither did he. We could've kept going that way for however long we would. And, I, of course, would stop thinking about what a shitty friend he turned out to be.
He's shitty because he hurt me. He set out to do so, and god damn it, it worked.
One of the last times we were out, he took me to his favorite restaurant. He was right: I hated the place. Pretentious atmosphere, douchebaggery at every corner, and a menu that did not seem at all appetizing. But we had a good walk through the art scene (kill me the fuck now!) just before, and he wanted to show me somewhere he loved. As I said, nothing looks particularly good but a Thai burger (say what?), and he always orders steak (there's a reason for that, I'm sure), and he asked me what I was going to have and I told him, and he got this odd look on his face and said, "Really?" and it made me feel like he was saying, "Really? We're at this expensive nice restaurant and you're going to have a burger?" and it made me feel, don't laugh, as if my food order wasn't good enough for him. Isn't that so fucking retarded? Waitress arrives and takes our order. Later, more than halfway through bad chicken, and his steak, he notices it's pink. He's been eating it this entire time and it's only now that he wants it cooked better. Waitress takes it back to do so three times (or was it two? Does it really matter when the piece of meat in question was the size of his thumb?) until it was good enough for him to take home.
You might think me petty, but these are the kinds of things that when I think about them make me see that I should've known better. I mean, I did. But I did it anyway.
Anyway, it isn't all his fault by a longshot. I admit it. But now, I'm just thinking, what I was trying to do. And for what, and for whom. I don't wish bad things for him, but I'm also not insane: he turned out to be girl-levels of crazy, and a bad person. Instead of thinking more like this, because I am pretty tired of myself having this bullshit conversation with my best friend (I'm sure she doesn't want to listen to me bitch, either), I'll do what I wanted him to do all that time, and just stop.
In 2007 I was younger and still believed I was indestructible.
"Everything is so fragile. There’s so much conflict, so much pain. You keep waiting for the dust to settle and then you realize this is it: the dust is your life going on. If happy comes along, that weird, and unbearable delight that’s actual happy—I think you have to grab it while you can. You take what you can get. ‘cause it’s here, and then…gone."
— Joss Whedon
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