In a situation such as the one I find myself in, I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry. Maybe both.
I recently re-read Chuck Palahniuk's "Choke" and there was one line at the very end about "Letting our pasts define our future" or something along those lines. It struck me as very apt as I was, at that moment, ruminating about how often things that happen in our past continue to influence our present, and perhaps even our future. I thought of all the bad things that had happened to me in the past and realized perhaps it was time that I just let go of all these painful memories, to stop obsessing over all of them and to move on. In other words, to stop letting my past define my future.
So I mentally forgave those who had wronged me in the past (quite a large list, mind). I stopped obsesing over my cat being put to sleep. I literally wrote some memories down, taped them on balloons, and just let them float away, until they were gone from my life.
However, in one example I had difficulty letting go. There was a student I knew from college, a fellow classmate at my last semester at college. Her name was Judi, and she was one of the 7 students who attended my college's highest rated writing course (I of course was also one of the students).
Judi was my age, dressed quasi-punk, quasi-goth, was basically a female version of myself, in a way. She looked like a younger Siouxsie Sioux, very attractive. She seemed depressed and seemed (I think) to be plagued by the same self-concious, inadequate feelings I have. She was like me also fairly shy and quiet. She also shared some of my music tastes and my interest in alternative comic books.
In retrospect, perhaps I should have struck up a friendship with her. Who knows, perhaps it could have led somewhere. However, at the time I was taking this class (last Spring) I was still under the belief that I was gay (similiar to how in high school I believed I was straight). Instead of setting my sights on Judi I focused on a gay male student named Shawn, who was also very attractive, very much an outsider, a rebel, basically, who also shared some of my same music tastes. I had a very huge crush on Shawn. The only problem was, he already had a boyfriend. So I pretty much spent most of the semester moping about how unavailable he was.
However, I also had similiar feelings for Judi. I'm not sure if Judi was single or not... she could have been. But I basically repressed any feelings I had for her. At the time, I had spent years establishing my gay identity, working with gay activism, outing myself, etc. I had grown comfortable with myself being gay. But now I found myself being attracted to this girl, and experiencing feelings for someone else I've never quite felt before. Love, maybe? I don't know. I wasn't ready to realize I was actually bisexual (can't believe it took me 23 years to figure this out).
So basically, I pined after the person who was unavailable while ignoring the one who probably wasn't. Typical me, I suppose. That's probably why I'm a failure with on-line dating. Whenever I'm supposed to meet someone in real life I always turn that person down at the last second. I guess whenever there is a chance of human intimacy or sex or love I run away as fast as I can. This is probably why I need psychotherapy or something. But I digress.
Anyway, to make a long story short Judi had a real interest in my short stories and poems... She often saw herself in some of my characters. She would write me little notes asking if I listened to stuff like Black Flag or Henry Rollins, but I never answered these questions to her in real life... Might have written a little note to her in my final response to one of her poems. I forget. By then the semester was done. She probably thought I was gay or something. Hell, I had enough gay or bi characters in the stories I submitted to the class.
During the summer I realized the folly of my ways, but by then it was too late, of course. So I decided to from now on never cut myself off from another person simply because of their gender. To be bisexual, in other words.
But then something happened. I couldn't quite get Judi out of my mind. In fact, she even began appearing in my dreams, which barely ever happens. I never have romantic dreams about other people: This was a first for me. With a dawning horror I realized that I could just possibly have thrown away one of my only chances to hook up with a person like myself, a person I could actually relate to. To quote a Talking Heads song, I was like "My God, what have I done?"
Anyway, around the start of this month, a little over 8 months since the last day I saw her, I decided to stop obsessing over her. To come to grips with the fact I would probably never see her face again, here her voice again. Hell, there wasn't a way I could have contacted her if I wanted to, as I didn't even know her e-mail address or phone number. I decided to move on and look for someone else.
But last week that all changed. You see, every Tuesday afternoon I go bookshopping. The bookstore I go to is 30 minutes away, so it's a bit of a pain to get to, probably that's why I only go once a week. Last Tuesday was no different. I went there that afternoon and spent about an hour browsing. I ended up getting two CDs (the Psychedelic Furs, if you must know) and a book (by Robert Anton Wilson). I got into line and looked at the two cashiers on duty.
Imagine my surprise when one of them was Judi. I couldn't believe it. My mouth went dry, I think. After months of thinking that I'd never see her face again or hear her voice again, there she was. And she looked even better now then when I knew her 8 months ago. I do not believe in coincidence, as I believe that everything happens for a reason and that it was destiny that this occured. Now I saw my chance to finally redeem myself. A chance to maybe befriend her.
She was stuck with a demanding customer with a very large order, while the other cashier was zipping through customers like kleenex. Naturally, Judi didn't check me out... the freaking old lady cashier did. And because Judi was fishing for something under the counter while I was being checked out, she never saw me (though maybe she heard my voice... not sure if she recognized it as my voice is very dull and nondescript). I couldn't just start talking to Judi as she was busy with the customer and the line was long. So I just had to leave the store.
As I walked back to my car, a bitter winter wind battering my body, I was overcome by feelings of despair deeper then I have ever felt in my life. I felt like I had been offered a second chance and it had just passed me by. I drove home incredibly depressed. However, once back at home I thought "Well, when you go do your weekly bookshopping next Tuesday, maybe you can talk to her then. Maybe she'll be working in the music section instead of behind the register so it'll be easier to talk to her." I decided to see if my luck improved next week.
This afternoon, I drove to the bookstore. The closer I got there, the more and more anxious I became. My flee instinct kicked in. Every insecurity I've ever had bubbled back up. I soon came to the road that led to the parking lot of the store. There were two paths: One which would lead to the highway that would take me back home, and the other which led to the store's parking lot. As I approached thse two paths I was overcome with indecisevness. But then I made my decision and pulled into the parking lot, realizing that if I ran away from this I'd probably be running away from human affection for the rest of my life.
So I entered the bookstore and browsed around for about 30 minutes, hitting the usual sections. She wasn't in the store at her, so I assumed she had the day off. Oh well, maybe next time I thought. I only got one book today, one by Philip K. Dick. I went to the cashier and paid for it. The cashier moved very slow, btw.
Just as the cashier gave me my receit I saw someone enter the store from the corner of my eye. To my surprise, it was Judi! She was very much in a rush as she darted right for the back room, I guess she was late. Once again, she didn't see me. If only I had browsed a bit longer or the cashier had cashed me out a few seconds quicker!
Once again, I was forced to march the long walk back to my car with my head held low, cursing my bitter luck and feeling like someone was playing some kind of stupid joke on me. I must have said the word "damn" about a hundred times on the way back home.
I'm not even sure if I'll go back to that bookstore next week. I don't think my heart can't stand any more of these missed connections. It feels like I'm being taunted. Maybe I really should just forget about her and shop at another bookstore instead of torturing myself. She probably has a boyfriend already anyway. And maybe she really has seen me these two times and just didn't say anything to me because she really doesn't like me. Or maybe she's mad I didn't pay much attention to her in that writing class. Hell, if she has seen me these last two times and would see me a third time on the same day every week, she's liable to think I'ma stalker or something, and I don't want to add stalker to my list of things I hate about myself. Or maybe she knows I saw her but, because I didn't say anything, she assumes that I either don't like her or am a snob (I don't think she's seen me either time, however). Maybe I should go to another store.
But then again, could I really live with myself if I never even try? If this really won't go anywhere I need some kind of closure. It just seems like the universe is trying it's best to not make this happen (not that I believe in some kind of god controlling things, mind). I don't know. We'll see what happens next week, I guess. I haven't made up my mind yet. |
