December 13, 2004 @ 1:15 am by sean
I was reading a story in Car&Driver about some guy who went driving on a boardwalk looking for a girl he saw, and then came a rush of realization to me. It has come fairly slowly, which is good because I’m not sure I could handle it coming any faster. And I doubt this is the culmination. Regardless, the realization of what this all means is coming clearer, and I feel even more worse the more I think about it.
I could’ve had what people look for their entire lives. What people flood singles websites and bars and dance clubs hoping to find, and what came to me; she came to me. It’s what I’ve often thought about and eventually I gave up on, and then it came out of no where. It’s what Frank Sinatra relentlessly sings about. It’s what seemingly the majority of themes of popluar music, movies, and TV shows are. It’s what makes up some of the most famous poetry, the most memorable stories. People have done great things for it. People have done great things because of it. People have died for it. Because of it I’m alive.
But it isn’t only what it is, but who I could have had it with. And then to think how this could be effecting her, ugh.
I can’t stop thinking about that night. I actually got in her car. That’s completely out of character. Then we went to that spot and she told me what I’ve wanted to hear for a long time. I remember thinking shortly after about what was going to happen come Christmas break. Would I be able to visit her? What would it be like to meet her parents? I’ve never met anyone’s parents under those circumstances. What would they look like? How would they act? How would they react to me? What would they think of me? What would her town be like? Would I meet any of her friends? What would they be like? What would they think of me? What would her house be like? What would we do? Well Christmas break is here and I’m hoping just to hear the word ‘hi’ from her.
I went back to that spot Friday night. Each time I go back there, some things have changed a lot, but some hardly at all. Especially since the first time I went there, my whole life has changed. But at each subsequent visit my outlook on the situation has changed, at least a little, and I’ve realized something new. It’s still late at night when I go there. It’s still kind of cold, though of course getting colder. The water sounds the same. Most everything looks the same. I still feel relatively the same about her, though against my logic I like her more than I did that night. And everytime I go back, only memories of her are there. I miss her so much.
I also thought briefly, because I considered this option less, what it would be like if she came here. What would my friends think of her? What would she think of my life? What would she think of my parents? What would my parents think of her? Would she be bored out of her mind?
When I first printed up the one picture I was able to print of her, it looked as if she wasn’t happy. Sometimes it still does. But at some point when I was looking at it, it suddenly seemed like she might have been smiling. To think that I might have documentation of her smiling at me gives me so much joy.
This is no small matter. This is of huge significance. I still don’t think I’ve realized, well I’m not sure, because I haven’t realized it. This wasn’t just any situation, this was something important and there is something missing, but I don’t know what it is.
I got a small taste of the bliss of being in love; then I showed up. If it didn’t taste so sweet perhaps I’d be in worse shape than I am.
“nobody said it was easy / no one ever said it would be this hard
nobody said it was easy / oh take me back to the start.”