- Frustration always breeds more frustration. Confusion breeds more confusion. Why is it always the bad emotions that work that way?
I'm not sure where I stand at the moment. Is what I did a 'good' thing? Or a bad thing? Or did it matter at all. I don't know. All I know is that...I truly bared my soul today. I exposed my heart to somebody more than I ever have in my whole stupid life. And he.....he just...
Sighhh...ok, before I get into that, let me get the little shit out of the way first. Because the other part is just....gonna make me forget everything else.
I ran into Sam today. More an accident than anything else, but he was alone. I couldn't believe that such a familiar face was suddenly so hard to approach. Someone that I used to share a bed with during sleepovers was suddenly such a stranger to me. But he was at his locker, and he seemed to be having trouble with his lock so he was getting mad at it and slamming his hand against the metal. As if he could somehow bully it into opening up. Something was troubling him. I could tell.
So I walked up, and I was like, "Hey. Having problems?"
And he kicked his locker really hard and said, "The fucking thing won't fucking OPEN!!!!!" He hit it again, and I tried to calm him down as I stepped in front of it. I remembered his combination by heart. It comes from all of those times that we put each other's stuff in one another's lockers to save some walking distance to the next class. No need for me to go all the way across the school campus and then turn around and come back just for a textbook and a calculator when Sam's locker was right next to my next class, you know? Anyway, I took my time, and opened the lock for him. He must have been soooo frustrated to have fumbled the numbers the way he had. I moved over and let him get into his locker. His face softened a bit, and he said, "Thanks." Then he rummaged around for a few seconds and got his papers and notebooks for his next period, closing it back. Then he said, "I'm sorry. I'm just...fucked up right now. That's all."
I told him, "Yeah...I kinda heard that you and Joanna were...." He looked at me, and I cut my words short. "...Um...not getting along."
He looked kinda sad. I think it really bothered him. And I've seen Sam upset before. I've seen him angry, and sad, and hurt, before. But...when I looked at him today, I saw a misery in him that I had never really witnessed before. This was something new. It was as if he had taken the pain of the whole planet into his heart at once, and was holding on to it as tightly as his arms would allow. I don't get it? I mean...was he really broken up here? Was he 'sorry' that she wasn't talking to him? Don't tell me that he was actually in LOVE with that prissy little bitch! I was kinda looking forward to the day when he left her behind and we could both laugh about her behind her back. But....that's not what I saw when I looked into his eyes. He was definitely taking it hard, and that's not like Sam at all. Not the Sam that I knew and...unfortunately...still loved.
He said, "I don't know what her problem is. I don't even LIKE Sarah like that. We were just TALKING! And she gets all jealous and stupid about it. Why can't I just tell someone that I care about them without having to give up my entire existence to be with them? Joanna doesn't want me to have friends, she doesn't want me to have a life, she doesn't even want me to talk to my classmates. What the fuck am I supposed to DO? I CAN'T just stop living every time I'm not around her! Why does she always have to have 100% of me and nobody else?" Then he looked up at me, and I don't know what kind of look I had on my face, but he must have thought that he was bothering me or something, because he said, "Aw shit, I'm sorry, Billy. I know you don't wanna hear this."
And I'm like, "It's ok."
But he says, "No...it's not ok. I mean...you and Joanna were once...." He stopped for a second, and then changed his words. "...Whatever. It's just rude for me to talk about it." He got his stuff together and started to back away from me. "I've gotta go to class. Thanks for the locker, k?" And he left before I could really say goodbye.
What was it that I felt in my chest? Guilt. Pity. And the strange urge to try to remember why I hated him so much. I wanted to hate him again. I needed it. Hate fuels you when you need it to. It gives you this self righteous feeling of confidence when you're mad at someone else. Like the very concept of truth itself is on your side, and you will be triumphantly carried into the light by the hands of fate for not stooping to their level. Well....at FIRST that's what it feels like. But as time goes on, you have to work harder and harder to hold onto it. The flames burn themselves out, the muscles loosen up, and you slowly begin to realize that the only reason you were mad in the first place was because you were hurt. And the only reason you were hurt, was because you cared so much. And that kinda leaves this...void behind. This vacuum that is constantly trying to suck you back into a potentially bad situation, and the only thing you have to hold on to in order to keep yourself from being pulled in against your will is your pride. It's just a weird feeling. That's all.
I also saw Bobby Jinette today a few periods before gym class. Thank God for moments when he was fully clothed for a change. We didn't get to talk for all that long. Mostly because he's still in the mode of trying to avoid me. He kept his sentences short, and his eyes darted around the room so he wouldn't have to look at me. I just wanted to make things right, you know? So, at one point, I said, "Bobby...listen, I've been a jerk lately, and it's not because of you. Ok?"
And he said, "It's ok. I deserved it. I've been bugging you every day, trying to get what 'I' wanted instead of listening to you politely telling me to back off. So....I fucked up. I'm sorry, k?"
I really didn't want him to feel bad, I just...I wanted some space and he kept trying to hug desperately onto my leg without letting up. He was a good guy, and cute on top of it, I just...wanted time that he wasn't willing to give me. I told him, "Look, let me make it up to you. Let's hang out tomorrow." I probably said it without actually thinking about what it meant. But despite the possible consequences, it was a sincere gesture that I planned to stick by.
He was like, "You don't have to do that, Billy. I'm fine, really. I know you're busy."
And I said, "No...I wanna see you. So, tomorrow. K?" And that was the first time I had seen Bobby really smile all week. I have to admit, it made me feel good inside to see it.
"Ok. Tomorrow. Um....can I call you?" And I told him that would be great. "Are you SURE?" He asked again, and I nodded. I asked him if he needed my number again, but he recited it to me from memory. "Hehehe, I'd never forget your number, Billy." He blushed, and...I think I made a play date for us. Whatever, I just hope it makes him feel better.
And that brings me to Brandon. Yeah....the reason that I've been squirming nonstop for the last seven hours straight. The reason I've been locked away in this emotional 'limbo' all day. Sighhh...well, here's what happened...
I knew that he was leaving tonight. I knew that he'd be gone for a whole week. It would be more than enough time for me to go loco and chicken out on the master plan again. I thought it about every single second of the day, from the moment I woke up, until the moment I saw that beautiful hunk of loveliness standing in front of me in the cafeteria, ready to sit down at my lunch table. I know that it sounds silly, but I was hyperventilating from being so damn scared. There was this unbearable pressure involved with talking to him today. I've been trying over and over again to take that leap of faith and make him love me. Or...at least ASK him to love me. Or....at least say that I love him. Whatever. It just felt like it was going to be now or never, and that was a terrifying state of mind to be in when talking to the most adorable boy in the 9th grade.
So...I kinda awkwardly asked him if he wanted to eat outside on the school lawn instead of being in that stuffy cafeteria all day. I sorta said it just as he was taking his first bite out of his sandwich, and I felt kinda dumb because he had just settled himself in to eat. But after a few chews, he said, "Ok. I guess it's alright." So we got up and went outside, and I made SURE to find a nice secluded spot where we could talk. But one that didn't look like I was trying to make things private. So I made sure that other people were in view....just not close enough to hear what we were talking about. Because I had totally planned to tell him. I had already made some kind of miserable attempt yesterday, and it didn't work out so well. But I was hoping that it left enough of an impression to actually make things slightly easier today.
Sure, I fumbled, and I wiggled, and I fidgeted, out there on the front lawn, talking about nonsensical bullshit and trying to make him smile when I could. I even made sure to keep my eyes down to keep from seeing just how.....sighhhh...how 'pretty' Brandon really was while I was doing it. Just seeing the way his lips moved when he talked to me was orgasmic. But..when push came to shove, and I realized that our lunch hour was almost over...I figured that I had to say something. I had to make my move, or lose him forever. That's just what it felt like. So...somewhere between him taking a sip of his lemonade and talking about how he was going to have to re-train himself in tying a tie for the wedding, I blurted out, "Brandon...I've gotta tell you something. And I have to do it now, before you go away."
He looked a little confused at first, but he said, "Um...okaaaay." I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, laughing at my attempt to get this burden off of my chest. But I couldn't let that stop me now.
I could have thought of a bunch of ways to strategically move into the topic of being TOTALLY in love with him. I could have thought out some kind of safe maneuver that would allow me to say it without incriminating myself as a hopeless 'fag' with a desperate crush on someone he could never ever hope to be with. But....that hesitation....those few random seconds of planning...they always outlast my courage, and I end up not doing anything at all. And I'm TIRED of not doing anything at all. I'm sick of bearing this burden alone without any concrete reason as to why I should. So....with a deep breath, an ache in my stomach, and a voice that I was sure wouldn't be broadcasted over the entire school lawn.....
...I told him.
I said, "Brandon.....I.....I love you." I never once took my eyes off of his shoes, and just started picking at the grass with my fingers. I think my heart ripped itself open at that moment. Because it hurt. It hurt a LOT! I shut my eyes tight, feeling so stupid for saying it, but it was out now, and I was almost crying from the confession. "Yeah...I...love you. So....yeah."
He sat there for a moment. He didn't say anything. He just....he stared straight ahead. When I finally got the nerve to look at him, he giggled a bit, a deep deep blush appearing on his face. And he said, "Shut up..."
I told him, "No. Brandon....I'm serious. I really love you. I love everything about you. I just...you're so beautiful to me."
His face got really serious for a second, and then he giggled again. "Whatever. You're....you're weird." He kept trying to test me to see if I was playing around, but the more I said, the more determined I became to say it. To finally let all of this compressed passion, confusion, and agony, out of me at once! To finally tell him the truth. At that moment, nothing meant more to me than spilling my guts and having him finally hear me. "Billy....?" He smiled.
"Please don't think I'm fooling around. I mean it. Ok?" I said. "I love you. I think about you constantly, Brandon. I don't care if you love me back or not, I just...I want you to know how I feel. And I want you to know that it's real." He didn't really have an answer for me. He just sat there, and didn't say anything. And then he hurried to gulp down the rest of his lemonade as fast as possible.
He said. "I think....I think I should go. I shouldn't....be out here right now."
And I told him, "Dude, you can HATE me if you want to! I'll totally understand! But please don't just leave me guessing about this, ok? Please? I can't stop thinking about you Brandon. Ever since I first saw you I've been dreaming about the moment when I'd get the guts to tell you how amazing you are to me. And how special and unique you are in every possible way. And when we talk on the phone, or hang out together, and....when we were on the bed....you know....that one weekend...."
But he cut me off, and he looked like he was really feeling sad. "I'm sorry, Billy. I can't...I can't stay here. I have to...just.....go." And he got his stuff and he left me there. I wanted to chase him, and I wanted to make him believe me, but he just didn't. I think he thought I was playing some kind of cruel joke on him. Because he didn't wanna look at me. He didn't want to hear me. WHY??? Why wouldn't he just hear me out?
It took every bit of energy that I had to not cry throughout the rest of the day. Imagine that. Me...crying over another boy. This isn't how I planned this. I didn't expect him to just...run out on me. I thought that...if I just found the courage to tell him, then all of those frustrating problems would be solved. But I guess it doesn't work like that in real life, huh? Maybe nothing works. Maybe....I just wasn't ever meant to have him.
He's gone by now. Gone off to some wedding out of town. Gone for a week. And taking all the time he needs to erase my disgusting proposition from his mind. I can't even CALL him now, for God's sake! To apologize. To confirm my confession. Or just to pretend that it never happened. I really felt something for him.....how could he just run away and not give me some peace of mind. Even a loud obnoxious rejection would act as some kind of closure. What do I do while he's gone? What do I do when he comes back?
What do I do if he.....just doesn't like me anymore?
I have to....I have to go. I just don't wanna think about anything right now. Later.
- A heartbroken Billy