My Non-Date

My poltergeist has not visited me in my chambers last night when I needed a good hug.

I’m still affected by the tragedy in Newtown and it’s making me want to connect with old friends for comfort – accidentally forgetting the past only to remember it all over again, “Oh yeah, they ditched me.”

My heart sputtered and weighed 100 pounds in my chest cavity.  I’ll be okay though.  I’m a resilient Bad Mamma Jamma wearing moon shoes bouncing my white ass to the stars!

ha…ha…..

One of my childhood classmates befriended me on Facebook, so I posted on his wall asking him how he was.  Our short wall chat escalated into him wanting to hang out, and me being the friendly sort that I am, said sure.

I never talked to him much in school.  He was shy, I was shy, and also I had my friend, Peg, who didn’t allow me conversing with others.   So it was virtually impossible to know him.

We were in seventh grade together I believe.  He sat alone in the corner of the class touching the hair on top of his head.  I always had a soft spot for him because he started losing his hair before reaching 14.

I’d be sitting in math class bored as hell listening to lectures and  found myself glancing over at him.  Learning about people has always been my true academic interest, not numbers.  I wanted to feel his pain, to understand it and learn what it must feel like to be him.  I didn’t want him to feel alone.

I don’t remember ever talking to him, but I do remember feeling like he was always my friend.  It’s hard to describe, I don’t know what it is about him.  Maybe it’s because we shared the same class as kids, or maybe it’s something else.  A comfort and understanding – I’m able to talk to him and he listens and understands and smiles at me thinking I’m cute.

There’s peace in his eyes.  It’s like looking into my blog, a blog that wants to know me to love me.

I have a stigma when it comes to dating.  When a real connection is made, I run.  There’s too much responsibly and real commitment.  But if you’re shallow, have happy superficial thoughts and you’re easy on the eyes, count me in!  I have more control of myself when the surface is waxed with happy.  Any real emotion is lacquered down in a sturdy candy coated shell so any weepy tears of feeling can’t melt away my external sunshiny radiance.

I am radiance….

I finally got the chance to hang out with him.  I invited him to Billy O’s, when was it?  Yesterday?  Shit I can’t believe I don’t remember yesterday!

I have not been feeling well lately, so last night I wanted to relax and chill, but there was too much noise going on at Billy O’s that only acerbated my sickness.  But I thought, “hey it’s either now or never, I should tell him I’m here.”

And he came.  He came up to me all smiles and wearing a fedora.  He looked the same as he did in Jr. High, only happier.  Before meeting with him I had a feeling that his adolescent hair loss could have shaped him into a glowing individual – and I was right!

I may be seeing only what I want to see, I have a habit of doing that.  It’s part of the grey in me – my heart strings, people pull on them.  But before he even opened his mouth, I knew I liked who he was.  I thought it was the perfect non-date atmosphere.  Amy was there with Adam and a few others to talk to, I had no energy reserves for that many people.  It felt like a mono y mono type of night for me.  And so there we were yucking it up for about five minutes alone.

Then Amy left, and I was stuck with Adam.  Adam is an old friend of mine – he’s great but requires lots of attention.  The guy never shuts up, or listens.

Adam – “Evil hit Connecticut.  That’s what it was.  Pure evil.”

Me – “It was an evil act, but I don’t believe in evil.  I believe in mental illness…”

Adam – “Ha ha Mel I love ya but HOW can you say it wasn’t evil?  Little kids got killed how can you say that?”

Me – “Yes it was evil but it was created out of mental illness.”

He didn’t understand.

Me – “It’s okay, go smoke your cigarette.”

I turn back to Brad.

Me – “I don’t think evil did this.  What exactly is evil anyway?  Does anyone know?  But we know what mental illness is!  I believe everyone has God in them at their core, but it’s when they move away from their center of awareness, that’s when sickness enters them.”

My reasoning comes from babies.  No baby is born evil.  Evil is created by circumstances that the individual can not overpower themselves, and they let darkness consume them.  They’re not strong enough, or aware enough to let God (the self) empower them.  At their worst, the one’s who do have the power must be taken down out of jealousy or resentment.  The light and dark maintain its equilibrium.  It’s an ongoing battle – necessary for growth and evolution.

Brad looked at me and understood completely.

Brad – “Well they’re saying he did have an illness.  He wasn’t right in the head.”

I was exhausted, my throat was froggy and scratchy, but I still stayed at Billy’s for a while.

Adam came back in to join us after his cigarette and kept saying what a cute couple me and Brad made.  Every two seconds he made a fart joke, or shit joke.  I love Adam, I really do but sometimes I need a breather.  Brad invited another old childhood classmate, Cricket, to join us, and the three of us left Billy O’s to go to a party.

I felt like I was part of the cool crowd, the popular kids.  I followed Brad to a big house in a nice neighborhood where several police cruisers were patrolling the area.

Cops – “Have you seen anyone throwing bottles at cars over here?”

Us – “No officer, but we saw a few broken bottles down the street.”

The cops left and I was able to exhale my mouth full of beer breath.

Me thinking – “I only just got here and already it feels like high school.”

I stayed at the party until 2:30 am.  It was a nice house, very big.  All the girls were dressed up pretty with their hair and makeup done nice.  It was not my normal crowd.  It was the typical rich Cheshire crowd.  And they were all so nice!

I’m horrible when it comes to outward appearances.  I don’t care how my car looks, or how I look.  I don’t care how much money I have or make, or where you went to college – I don’t care.  I can’t make myself care.  But in front of these people I felt thankful that my “I love Zombies” bumper sticker fell off a few months back.

I’m not saying all wealthy people judge, I’m not saying that.  But some do.  They can’t help it and I totally understand why.  It doesn’t make them bad people, just not my type of people.  Around them I feel ashamed I still live at home, but then again, so do they!

Anyway, I’m so tired.  I had trouble sleeping last night.  I had to wake up at 8 am today for one client, came home, ate and napped. It was spectacular.  I was supposed to go to a historical committee holiday party with Brad today, but I didn’t have the strength.  It’s very rare for me to come across days like today.  Restful slumber days.

I love anything historic and would’ve loved to go.  Brad is a member of the historical society here in my hometown and I love that about him.  Old architecture, history imbued wood – our roots.  I love stuff like that.  I love anything that deals in preservation.  It’s taking the time to honor our past and to give back.  Most people don’t give back, but only progress towards that which brings insubstantial happiness.

So here I am, that’s that.

I’m not going to date Brad, but I want to see him again.  I just can’t date.  Not now at least.  I have too much I want to do, too much I have to do.  I feel like the world isn’t going to end because I’m not finished yet.  My blog isn’t finished yet, my writing is not where I want it to be.  The world is not going to stop because I’m not going to stop.  It’s symmetry, harmony, it’s understanding.

But even if the world really does end, I’m ready for it.  I have no regrets (save my dead dog), and my conscience is clean.  Bring it.

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