I know, I ended rather abruptly last time. Mainly because of time. It was well after midnight when I stopped, knowing that I had more to say. You see, when I write a journal entry I do it live, so to speak. I do it directly onto the blogsite. So most of these entries are free-flowing thoughts. I try to keep some structure just so I make some sense. I don't know how well I do.
Continuing where I left off...
I know, I didn't know Melissa that well. My knowledge of her only extended as far as the four walls of the store. My affection for her was based mostly on her looks. Yes, I know, that's probably a very shallow way of thinking. But as I said before and will probably say again in the future, I am a visually-oriented person. And Melissa was beautiful.
I remember one Thanksgiving morning she was scheduled to appear on a show called
Living the Life. It's a show that aired after the
700 Club on the Family Channel. She was doing a segment about easy craft ideas for the holidays. It was a promotion for Michael's, the craft store and my store's arch-nemesis where she worked after getting married. She was eight months pregnant at the time and still looked gorgeous. Yes, of course I taped it.
Megan and Melissa were my two main crushes. There were other girls to which I was attracted. Angela, who I will talk about in the future. Rosie from college, who I thought had the most all-around beauty of all the girls on campus. Jess, the roommate of my girlfriend in college. She was incredibly sweet but a lot funnier than me, so I got jealous. Holly from work. Very pretty and intelligent, but way too liberal. I asked her out once, but she wasn't interested.
I was attracted to these girls, but I wasn't that invested in them. When it became apparent that I had not shot with them, I would be okay with it. Then I'd just sit back and admire them from afar.
It wasn't until I was 21 that I got my first girlfriend. My friend Stephen and his girlfriend Pam set me up with her friend named Lynnette. He had never had a relationship, either. So Stephen and Pam conspired to get Lynnette and I together. It was the case of him saying, "You know, Justin, Pam told me that Lynnette said that she was crazy about you." And Pam would say to Lynnette, "You know, Stephen told me that Justin said that he was crazy about you."
I saw right through the ploy. I knew there was no way in hell any girl in her right mind would say that about me. Besides, I had been in similar situations before. I'd be standing in the high school library minding my own business when some girl would come up to me, point to some table and say, "You see that girl over there? She think's you're cute." That actually happened a few times. One time in junior high school, I was sitting in the cafeteria enjoying an ice cream sandwich when a tough headbanger chick called to me from a couple tables over, "I've got something better for you to lick," after which her girlfriends laughed hysterically.
Those and other such situations like a girl asking if I was big taught me to be skeptical of any girl who made an advance on me. So when Stephen told me about Lynnette being crazy about me, I didn't believe it for a second. But I decided to go with it anyway. First of all, we were no longer in high school. Second, he was one of my best friends; I knew I could trust him not to pull any of that shit with me. Even though he was always razzing me about being a virgin, I knew he genuinely wanted me to get a girlfriend. Finally, I was lonely. It sucks being the only single person in a circle of friends. Your loneliness increases proportionately to the number of friends in said circle.
So I decided to go along with it. When the four of us, Stephen, Pam, Lynnette and I, would hang out, I paid extra attention to Lynnette. I would cheer extra hard for her when we went bowling. I'd compliment her on her sweater. Eventually we started hanging out, just the two of us. We took walks in the park. Went rollerskating, which I really hated because I was so bad at it. Before long we were holding hands and then making out in the back seat of her car. Very original, eh?
Her parents didn't like me. Her father was an ex-Marine, so automatically disapproved of some dorky-looking guy with no college experience and who worked at a pizza restaurant. I'm not sure, but I think her mother didn't like me for the same reason.
I was never happy with that relationship. She wanted a lot of romance, the kind that you see in cheesy romantic comedies or read about in books featuring a bare-chested Fabio on the cover. She wanted cards and flowers and moonlit walks on the beach. I am incapable of that level of cliche. I can do it on Valentine's Day, but on the other 364 days of the year, forget it. She also tried to change me. I was a big geek (still am) and wore a lot od comic book-inspired t-shirts. She wanted me to wear nice shirts like the kind you find at the Gap or Abercrombie & Fitch. She would nag me about doing my homework, which I resented. I swear, there were times that she reminded me so much of my mother.
Honestly, I'm not sure what I wanted out of my relationship with Lynnette. She was my first girlfriend, so I was pretty much just seeing what it was like having a girlfriend. I think I was hooked on the physical side of it. Not just the making out, but mostly just being close to someone. I believe I was still lonely, and when I held her, I felt less lonely. That's a powerful feeling and it can be intoxicating for someone who has as low a self-image as I did.
After about six months she broke up with me. I wasn't broken up about it. I was never emotionally attached to her. I was down but not that upset. It was my first break-up, so I was pretty much just seeing what it felt like. I was somewhat expecting to be heart-broken. After all, isn't that how it always happened in the movies and tv? Wasn't I supposed to crying and wailing and trying to come up with ways of winning her back?
I don't even remember our break-up conversation.
Several months later I got a call from her. She was doing a work-study at a college she was going to attend in the fall. She invited me to hang out with her. After a couple visits we were back together. I guess she had tried dating a few guys, but they didn't pan out, so she decided to give me a second chance.
By that time Stephen and my other best friend, Josue, had moved on to college, and I was once again feeling lonely. So I enrolled at her college. By the end of the fall semester we had broken up again. Same reasons. She wanted a romance I was unable to give her. She was trying to change me. I was addicted to the feeling of closeness.
Only difference was that I remember the break-up conversation. A week prior to that, she told me that she was going to meet with some guy friends from high school. During our break-up she revealed to me that that was just a ploy to make me jealous. She wanted me to object to her going to see some guys other than me. I don't consider myself a jealous person. If she wanted to spend time with friends she hadn't seen since high school, I wasn't going to stop her. But I wasn't understanding of the subtle devices women use (I still don't). I was completely oblivious to what her true purpose was, and she took that as a sign that I didn't love her. Hence the break-up.
Once again, I wasn't that upset about it. I tried to be cordial with her afterward. It was a small campus and we shared the same dormitory. It was only natural that we saw each other all the time. I would say hi, but she never responded and never made eye contact. The one time we spoke was when I was telling someone about a parking ticket I had received and she was incredulous about the circumstances.
The following year proved to be very pivotal. During my first year I had never given Abby much consideration. She was a social sciences major, while I was an art major. I knew that she had a reputation for being a drinker. We never had any interaction because she lived in a different dormitory.
During the second year, Abby became roommates with Jess, my on-again-off-again crush. Because I hung around Jess quite a bit, I spent more time with Abby. She tells me that she was walking into the cafeteria one day and saw me sitting there by myself reading a comic book. I guess at that moment I sparked her interest and she decided that she wanted to get to know me better. So she sat down and started talking with me. I don't remember this occurence because I didn't realize its importance.
She started spending more and more time with me. But with me being so clueless about the subtleties of womens' devices, I had no idea she was interested in me.
For the people who live on the street where the college is, Halloween is a major event. It's like their Mardi Gras. The street becomes mobbed with little vampires and princesses and monsters and Power Rangers. Families come from miles around and from surrounding towns because the residents go all out with their celebrations. The pastor of the local church puts on a mini presentation of
The Phantom of the Opera every fifteen minutes. One year the students turned one of the dorms into a haunted house that kids could walk through. We went all out with that one. God, I love Halloween!
We didn't have a haunted house during the second year, much to my chagrin. Instead, one of the guys dared me to go trick-or-treating. I was 21 then. Some of the girls and the resident director were taking some children out, so I joined them. When Abby heard that I was going, she tagged along, as well. Despite my age, I was getting into the fun of it and grew impatient with the snail's pace the girls were moving at. So I decided to break off from the group and go on ahead. Abby asked if she could join me, to which I agreed.
At some point she asked me, "What do you look for in a woman?"
I really didn't know what to say. No one had asked me that before. I thought about it for a second and said, "Umm...I guess someone who laughs at my jokes."
"Do I laugh at your jokes?"
Another pause. "Yeah. You do."
The conversation ended there. And a weird one, I thought it was. Yes, I was a moron to not notice what had just happened. It wasn't until I was going to bed that night that it hit me.
Wait a minute. Did she ask me out? Was that what she was asking?The next day Shawna, Abby's friend, came up to me and excitedly asked me if she had asked me out yet. Being an idiot who answers questions based on technicalities, I answered no because Abby didn't actually ask, "Do you want to go out with me?" I asked Shawna if she was supposed to, but she told me to talk to Abby instead. At that point I knew the answer to my question the previous night. I went to Abby and asked point blank if she had, indeed, tried to ask me out. She said yes.
I wasn't sure how to react at first. Before that I had been severely disheartened because no one had ever shown any interest in me. My self-image was dismal. I thought I was ugly and that no one would ever want me. I truly believed that I had no redeeming qualities. Why go for me when you could have the Brad Pitt look-alike standing next to me?
Now along came Abby expressing interest in me. She, of her own free will, considered me pursuable. She thought I was worth it. She had gone for me when she could have gone for Dan or Brian or David. When I realized that, it meant the world to me. Abby had given me hope. Maybe I wasn't worthless.
Abby and I hung around a lot after that. And since Jess had started dating the college cook and staying at his place, we were alone most of the time. And yes, we started making out. And yes, she became my first time.
The day after, I really didn't know what to think. In retrospect, I think I was expecting some life-changing moment. Some big turning point backed up by an orchestral score by John Williams. But there wasn't. I was still me, some schmoe who was going to college. I really didn't feel that different. Even though I knew it was a sin, I didn't really regret it. I now knew what sex felt like. But there was no big change.
Abby pulled me aside and asked me if we were a couple or if it was just a fling. Being the idiot that I am, I said I thought we already were an item. I guess she was confused and a little let down by my answer. Who can blame her, with an answer like mine? But honestly, I didn't know what to think. I was still trying to suss out what had happened and how I felt about it. I was waiting for the life-changing moment.
*Sigh* Running late again. Must stop here. More to come.