:: Closing Time ::

:: Monday, August 26, 2002 ::

Mallory. I’m pretty certain Mallory doesn’t read my blog, but I’m pretty certain a lot of people do who could, would, and might tell her about this. I really don’t care. I don’t care whether she reads it either way. If you feel that she should be told, then tell her. It won’t bother me if she reads it or doesn’t, and unless it comes directly from her I don’t really want to know. But Mallory and I have some odd history, some touchy history, some crazy history. Mallory. You all might have read the previous blog, the JSA story, the story of how I fell for her at first sight in seventh grade and basically have never completely gotten over it. The story of how I swear to god she was flirting with me at the end of freshman year, and then maybe into sophomore year? How I think she used me and Andrew against each other come Winterstate, and how she baffled me by SHATTERING my self esteem and then coming to see if I was all right, and what she could do. How she effected such a major change to my life by bringing out the aggressive, defensive image most of you think of me as. How she made that me. And through thick and thin I’m still attracted to her, and I still care about her. But I keep asking myself: WHY!? Why the FUCK am I still yearning for the affection of somebody who’s lead me on like that (did I skip that part before? At the end of freshman year I wasn’t single… and then she turned the flirt on, and when I ended that relationship because I couldn’t keep going while having feelings for Mallory as well, she was like hey, I won, I’m done, I never really cared) and dropped me, who’s sent me into the single biggest downward spiral of my life, the spiral that shattered a good portion of my high school career and led me to the life that I currently believe. The spiral that made the image that most people know, and that I will never truly and completely escape. Why? WHY?! …. I don’t know. I respect a lot of things about her – her intelligence, her spirit, her confidence. Her appreciation for music. I honestly love hearing her sing, and only some of that is because of how much I enjoy just being around her. Part of it is a true appreciation for other people making music, and for her voice. She doesn’t like her singing it seems. She’s told me she’s bad – I disagree. I think she should sing more, and keep it up. But how the hell can things like that offset the toying she’s done with me. The way she’s strung along Andrew, when she KNOWS he never really got it, never really understood. I wish I knew more details about that but Andrew and I have always shied away from that subject, primarily out of deference to each other. We’re both in the same sort of boat, but we see her very differently, I’m sure. I wish I knew how she –really- felt, if she had to put her feelings about me into words. I’ve seen curiosity in her eyes, I’ve seen disinterest, I’ve seen caring, I’ve seen malice, I’ve seen longing, I’ve seen misunderstanding. I even feel like I felt some of a few tonight, and not the negative ones. I didn’t get it. I couldn’t make eye contact for long, because getting attached scared me. I looked over to her and made eye contact and I think she was staring at me, and I looked away. And I looked back and she was still looking… and I looked away for good, until she did. I don’t want that anymore. I don’t TRUST her, damnit. Not after what she’s done to me. It would take a lot to change that. When she left, and I had to say goodbye…. barely even a hug, with what? I shared words of encouragement and joy with everyone else… nothing with Mallory. We finally felt cold. Even Lindsey, who I’ve had far more disputes and differences with on average, and who I’ve seen far less, seemed to care more. Mallory. I don’t know what the hell she wants anymore, but I’m pretty fucking sure it’s not at Harvard. I’m not sure if Harvard will be right for her. She’s certainly not like any Harvard I’ve ever met, but then again she’s not like many people I’ve ever met. She’s my crucial weakness though. I think, even after everything I’ve said, if she were just to walk into my arms and hug me, I’d still melt like butter. I know everything she’s done and everything she’s cost me… and it’s hard to not care. Is it love? Is it obsession? It’s probably both. But what it IS is going to the back of my head, repressed and replaced by realer, more honest feelings. Communicative relationships with Alexis, with Teresa, shit, even with Juli. Juli fucking Weiner, who has become an exceptionally positive and truly marvelous part of my thoughts this summer, when I’d had no idea possible. She makes me smile too. Mallory? …. Mallory once told me she couldn’t take it anymore, that she didn’t want to be hurting me anymore. What she’s done since hasn’t really shown me that. Tell her this is here if you want. If you think you should. I’m not going to, because I don’t even talk to her anymore. Don’t even try talking to her online anymore – she just started ignoring me anyhow, so I stopped trying. I’ve got some really deep conversations between us saved, some that I don’t think I’ve surpassed with anyone yet. And yet, with all that depth in the relationship, it comes to this. That’s pretty fucking sad. It hurts me that it came to this, but I’m stronger now. I’m moving on.

Which is why I left the absolute best for last. I’m surprised at how strong and confident I feel having written all that about Mallory given that she’s always been my kryptonite, my weakness, my Achilles heel. I don’t know what to say about it, but I think the next page(s) will be really, really good.

Sasha. Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha Sasha. I’m writing this in Microsoft Word with the autosave set to every two minutes to make sure I don’t lose more than a smidgen of it, and consequently it is freaking the fuck out that I’ve got a repeated word that many times – all but one of the Sashas had squiggly red underlines under them bitching about it. I fixed it though, because I had to say his name over and over again, to even come close to how many times he has been the absolute best friend I could ever ask for. Been a brother – it’s a word I’m hesitant to use because I don’t have a biological brother, but Sasha is everything I could ever ask for in one. Start with the basics – there is NOTHING I cannot talk about with Sasha, if the need arises. There is NOTHING I cannot do with Sasha because of any awkwardness or whatever. There is NOTHING I do not enjoy having Sasha there for. There is NOTHING I can think of where he wouldn’t have my back, and where I wouldn’t have his. Those are the basics – the basics you think of when you use the term best friend, which some of you may know is a term I have never used before Sasha, and really before this year. Sasha and I have this incredible level of understanding of each other – to be honest, there are a lot of topics we –don’t- talk about, but not because we can’t. Because maybe we don’t need to, and it’s better that way. We don’t often talk about girls, or crushes, or whatever. I think we can both tell, and we sure as hell don’t need or want each other to cry to. We are each others’ strength, back to back facing the world if we have to be, and we don’t ever have to go crying and asking for a crutch. I don’t talk to him about heartbreak because we understand each other without words. We see each other and get it. We see each other and know. We’ve got a ridiculously instinctive understanding of each other, and an absolutely unflappable trust. There is nothing I wouldn’t trust him with, and nothing I wouldn’t be able to ask of him if I needed it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him – and it doesn’t have to be said, doesn’t have to be written, doesn’t have to be blogged. So some of you may be thinking, why is he writing it then? Well… because I want to. I’ve said it before – I write this blog for myself, you all just get to read it. I hope you enjoy it, or it helps you, but it’s really for me. I’ve never thought before this much about how good a friend Sasha is, and I’ve never really put it into words. To write these things and know them to be true, allows me to be strong. I can go to college far away from him and know that there is nothing that won’t be there when I get back. Our friendship is the kind that lasts forever – I doubt I’ll make that good a friend at college, because that good a friend doesn’t even come along once for everyone. I honestly expect that if I get married, he’ll be my best man. He’s the friend that brought me to all of you, but that was just a smidgen of what he’s done for me, a smidgen of the inspiration he’s given me. He has my utmost respect as a musician, as a competitor, as a person. Tonight I have/had an away message up that many of you may have seen. “I’m blogging like hell, but I want to, need to, talk to any of you. All of you. I already miss everyone, and I’m not even gone yet.” It’s not the kind of cry for help I usually make, and not the kind Sasha and I would make to each other. And somehow he knew in his gut that this time was a bit different. Was it in how I acted tonight? Was it in the handshake before he left, the look on my face. Was it just that he knew – either way, he knew. And I got a message from him, right before he signed off. I probably shouldn’t quote it, and if it bothers you I’m incredibly sorry but right now I think I have to. “I can't talk to you right now, I wish I could but I'm being unbelievably selfish and thinking only of myself and the truth is I’m going to break down completely I talk anymore, so I'll talk to you later, and we'll certainly see each other in the future, I promise you that.” Sasha, let’s get one thing straight – you never, ever have to apologize to me for anything. You’ve done so much good for me I couldn’t manage to ever be mad at you. That you even pulled it out of yourself to say that is beyond incredible…. you were the only person to respond to that away message. That desperate, desperate cry for help. Somehow you knew when it had become too much that I finally needed to call in that favor of my best friend. And even when it was hard for you you managed to at least get out what mattered – that you were listening, and that you cared, and that we WILL talk if I have to, and that we WILL see each other. Sasha, as I write this, for the first time in my life I am actually crying tears of joy. To be able to have as good a friend as you have always been for me – that is incredibly special. You’ve saved my sanity on countless occasions, and you’ve done it again. I never understood the tears of joy concept and even as I do it it’s fucking unfathomable to me, but I am absolutely happy right now having been able to write everything I have. You are my brother, my strength, my inspiration, my spirit. All that you have done for me I can never thank you enough for, and I can never repay you for. At the turning point, my day came first and I crumbled, I collapsed. I was breaking down into pieces and you knew, and you came and even though you were cracking as well you put that on the line and you saved my sanity. Tomorrow, I want to talk to you before I leave on Tuesday, but not about what’s bothering me – in one message you’ve already solved that. Tomorrow is for brotherhood, for friendship.

At this exact moment I can forgive anyone for anything, because the joy and spirit I feel inside of me, having finally recognized in writing just how exceptional a friend I have, has lifted me to a level I can’t even begin to describe.

I wish the best to everyone, because I’ve already got it, and it’s magnificent.

Thank you, Sasha.

Thank you.

Thank you.






THIS IS THE END OF A SPLIT BLOG. IF YOU ARE SCROLLING UP TO SEE WHAT I’VE WRITTEN RECENTLY, GO TO THE TOP OF THE PAGE UNLESS IT’S PAST…. 8/26, AT WHICH POINT I MAY HAVE WRITTEN MORE. THE BEGINNING OF THIS POST HAS A SIMILARLY BOLD MESSAGE

:: Peter 2:25 AM [+] ::
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