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Too early in the
day. I'm not high
yet. ;-)


A sadness attack for the first time this summer. I thought I had them behind me.



talked to:

And before that, Alex.


How I can move on
from the many
events of the year.

thursday, june 8th

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Quote Du Jour:
"Your love for me was like a summer breeze. Oh, it lasted for a while. I could hold on a little tighter I know. But when you love someone, you've got to let them go." (Lonestar, "Smile")

I can only imagine how pitiful I sound. But it doesn't change the way I feel. And I feel sad... for the first time since Tuesday, May 16th. And if you want to see pitiful, you should have been there that night.

I had taken my last final of the semester at 8 a.m. that morning. I had to be out of the dorms by 10 a.m. the next morning. The final month of the semester had been rough on me. I thought I was gonna flunk out of school. I started to think about a relationship I had been out for several weeks. I just knew I was gonna leave and never come back. I was depressed. I could study, but only if I carried myself into the library (a place I don't spend enough time in). My dorm room... my office... others' dorm rooms... Everywhere I went there were memories. Happy ones. Sad ones. And I'm not sure which ones were the toughest to recall. Maybe it was the sad ones because they *were* sad... but the happy ones were tough, too, because I just *knew* that I was never gonna have new memories at school.

When Lindsay came over to my place for Valentine's Day, four scented candles were among the gifts she brought. I remember the Monday before finals started. I was in the dumps anyway... but really wanted to study... but my suite-mate had left the worst smell in our bathroom and it was seeping under my door. I pulled out the candles and put them to use. So many memories came back. I felt like I wanted to crawl into a ball... a ball so tight that I ceased to exist.

Just as it did when we first used the candles, my body flowed with emotion on that Monday night. But it wasn't the same. Instead of elation... it was sadness. Instead of passion... it was a little loneliness. Instead of love... it was, well... there still was love in that heart of mine. That didn't change. I think that once you love someone... you don't ever fall out of love totally. They take up space in your heart and it's hard for others to fill that space. Oh, the difference three months can make. It seemed like a lifetime ago when Lindsay and I lit those candles the first time.

It was Saturday, February 12th. My gift to her was dinner and a concert at the local arena. She showed up at my place with the candles, a teddy bear, the single "Amazed" by Lonestar, some candy and the movie "City of Angels." We ate dinner. We went to the concert. We came back to my place and lit the candles... and it was then that I made love for the first time in my life. No, not sex. I'd had that many times before including a few times with Lindsay. I'm talking about the experience that brings you pleasure for your body and heart. It was a great moment for me... but there was a weird feeling in the back of my mind that our relationship wouldn't last as long as I wanted it to. I gave that feeling as little thought as possible and tried to soak up the night. We popped in the movie and she fell asleep in my arms.

Three months later, I was stretched out on that same bed. Math book open. Valentine's candle lit. My body was in May. My heart was in February. My mind was somewhere in between... not knowing wether to grasp the reality of life... or to try and soak up the memories of the relationship. From that point until the end of the semester I struggled with my emotions. One minute I was on top of the world... and the next, I was the saddest person in the universe. The biggest problem was trying to keep this sadness hidden. Afterall, I was supposed to be the happy & carefree guy that all of my friends knew me as. This continued until the final day of the semester... when my body, mind and heart had finally had enough and purged the feelings I had stored inside.

It was penny draft night at a local bar and I went there with about a half dozen friends. Lindsay was part of my group. She was with the Jose. She says they are just good friends. (He wants to screw her. I think she probably wants to screw him, too.) I combined a few drafts with at least five fairly stiff mixed drinks. I had a breakdown. I went outside and called Jessie on my cell phone. Long distance. For 30 minutes. Walking back and forth across a city street. (I'm lucky I didn't get killed or arrested.) I told her that I was so confused and upset. There was Lindsay... who I didn't want to love anymore... who didn't love me... and probably never did regardless of what she says... but I couldn't stop caring for her. And then there was Jessie. Yes, I know I was talking about Jessie to Jessie. Here is someone who cares for me. Who loves me. Who wants to be with me. And I want to be with her. But I dig deep within... looking for those same feelings to share... and I can't find them. How unfair is that?

I can only imagine how extremely stupid I looked... one in the morning, drunk, crying and walking back and forth across the street talking on a cell phone. And I hate to cry. Makes your face feel all weird... and makes you look and feel vulnerable... I like to be in control... and people in control don't cry.

I finished with Jessie and sat down on the sidewalk. Two close friends came out of the bar to look for me... and I went nuts again. Alcohol can be somewhat of a truth serum for me. Sure, I can still tell a fib if I need to when I've been drinking... but I'm usually brutally honest... and this night was no exception to that rule. I told my friends everything. They listened.

I walked back into the bar and looked for what remained of my group. Lindsay and Jose were gone. I asked someone if they had seen them. The person let me know that they left together. Shit! How could I let that happen. I knew Jose wanted her for what was in her panties and in her bra... and probably nothing more. I had two concerns. First, they were both drunk... and shouldn't have been driving... and Secondly, I knew they had to be somewhere screwing. I had to protect her, I thought. I called around... got cell phone numbers... numbers of places they could have gone. Finally, I found them... and they were in different places. Oh, what a relief that was.

That was the last night I had been sad... until tonight (well, actually it's the morning... but it's dark, so I call it night). I don't know why I felt so down tonight. I talked with Alex earlier, who is good friends with Lindsay. She told me that the Jose and Lindsay were in public and acting like a couple. That would have been fine... but Lindsay continues to deny that she's in a relationship with anyone. And if she'll lie about the obvious... what would have kept her from lying about being in love with me. And when I think that anyone would lie about that and be so good at doing it... it makes me sad. Especially when it's my heart that's being lied to.

copyright © 2000-02, Thomas Fletcher. all rights reserved.