2002-02-26 - 12:32 AM
Mister Meany's Night Of Nostalgia
Somebody, please stop me, before I start all over again.
I just got off of the phone with a certain somebody - a certain somebody that I regret to say, I've been trying to let fade into the past for quite some time, and in many ways, I have succeeded.
I was planning on turning in early, so I can wake up in time for my morning class, yet it was just one of those nights when you wanna fall asleep to a movie or something. So I went downstairs, perused the plethora of flicks in my library of tapes, and came upon the final choice - "Only You" or "Simon Birch". Since I'm an indecisive dickhead, I scurried over to my sister in front of the computer, and presented her with my dilemma. "Hey, which one should I watch? 'Only You' or 'Simon Birch', although I'm kinda leaning towards 'Simon Birch' for some odd reason." Of course, she went along with my "leaning", and chose "Simon Birch" as well. So I headed on up the stairs, down the darkened hallway, and into the confines of my room - popped in the tape (I had to rewind it thereafter), and pressed play. I went over and tucked myself into the bed, patiently letting time pass as the previews rolled. Then, the movie began.
As the opening credits ran, and the title faded in, hundreds of little memories came flooding back in - and so much, that somehow, I almost wanted to cry. You see, the last time I saw that movie, was almost two years ago - what happened that day, or even more precisely, during and after the movie, affected every fiber of my life (and every fiber of my being) for at least a year after. "The Forbidden Kiss", as I so aptly titled it in several of my poems, cursed that day with something that would bring so many tears and so much drama.
I'll leave the name of the woman I shared that kiss with, hidden in anonymity - for those of you who know me, most likely know who I'm talking about anyways. Those of you who don't know, probably shouldn't. But that's not the point.
Point is, all of my feelings for her have subsided over time; a long duration past before I stopped becoming jealous of any man that tried to pursue her. And now - I think I'm getting a hint of it again.
As the movie went on, I decided to call her up, just to say "Hi", and maybe even a "Good night" - that's all I intended it to be. We ended up conversing for a good time (filled with unavoidable silences, of course), but nonetheless we did get the heads up on each other. Things were going fine, until she sort of blurted out her newfound status of "taken" - and as prepared as I thought I was for future news like that, it hit me pretty hard. I felt that dropping feeling in my chest again, something I forgot about so long ago. Things were starting to seem like two years ago - the innocent nervousness, blatant and hopeless romanticism, and the beginning of the end of me. I didn't like it one bit, and I almost immediately noticed what was starting to happen again. She had to go, so we said our quaint "Goodbye"s, and waited for the hang-up. You see, usually, we'd fight over who would hang up first - ritually, we'd try to fool the other, just to have the other hang up. Yet for some mysterious and God-awful reason, I fell back into that habit, and almost unknowingly just assumed that we might just do that routine once more. So after our "Goodbye"s, I stayed on the phone, listened to the silence, and then said..."Umm, okay now, bye for real this time." I expected to hear her bitter-sweet voice reply with a "Yeah, uh huh, suuuuure." or something. But that didn't happen. She had hung up. And I was still on the phone.
Game. Set. Match.
As long as it took me to leave her behind, it only took a phone call to get reeled back in. But I'm stopping myself before I start.
I came online to seek some help, advice, or some sort of ear to hear my plea (or more essentially, just somebody to yell at me and tell me to snap out of it). I got on - Adrie's asleep, Dale's asleep, John's away, Marc's away, Elaine's not on, and neither is Eric. I mean, there are at least fifty-five people online, but none that I could really talk to about this matter. Luckily, Frank came on - and HE more than anybody, knows about my deal with that devil with "The Forbidden Kiss". I mean, we DID start a club - LB FOR LIFE!!! In any case, I just bluntly told him to tell me to stop - and I merely uttered "I think I just started to feel something". With that, he replied, "NO! But you were supposed to be the only one who survived". Sorry, bro - I thought I was, and perhaps I still AM the only survivor (and this is a mere taste of a memory, and nothing more). But no matter, fact is, it's all bitter-sweet again. I like caring for her, yet I hate getting hurt. I really did enjoy our phone conversation, as much as the result had me getting all flustered and mixed up again. You see, the yin and yangs pull at me the most, when it comes to her. And as invigorating and unboring as that may seem, it's draining and a form of masochistic torture, that I don't feel like indulging in at this juncture in my life. I put those feelings for her under the pillow I slept on two years ago. I've then since slept on another.
BAH! You know what, this is nothing. This is just a mere flup - nothing more than a crazy case of nostalgia. It'll be gone by morning (I pray). I have nothing to worry about. Besides, I have troves of troops behind me, urging me along to the path of "forget about her". That path that I've been traversing for many many many months. Really, this is nothing. Just some nostalgia. Ha! I feel much better. This is nothing.
Really.
