Thursday, April 8 & Friday, April 9

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About this site:
In 1993, I spent the year writing in a blank datebook from 1954. Now, in 2010, I'm posting each page on the web and writing about it. You may want to start at the beginning.

1954: April 8-9

Yow, there's a mess of a page.

Note the scribbled "I'll kill Soumyaa!" That's from Mike, because Soumyaa told his girlfriend at the time -- who I believe was his now-wife, Emily -- that he'd cheated on her. I don't recall whether that was true -- I think she had heard something wrong through the grapevine (she was known as a bit of a ditz) -- but it didn't matter. Emily broke up with him anyway.

The "he's she's they're... outta control" thing is an inside joke among the small group of yearbook staff members who actually produced the yearbook -- as opposed to the other kids in the class (yes, yearbook was a class, not just a club) who didn't do much of anything. We got it printed on t-shirts, along with "Our book, not yours." We thought it was really funny.

Secret writing:

Gabriela and I had another talk today. We talked about what we wanted and about why we are the way we are. She says she wants to help me. I know I wouldn't, but I feel as if -- if I told her any of my feelings, it would hurt her as much as it hurts me... She's afraid of being kissed. I want to kiss her just once. I asked her to marry me in six years. She said, "We'll see," which is as close to a yes as need. I love her so much.

Wow. So much to talk about there. Setting aside the WTF of asking her to marry me in six years (which would have been when she graduated college, assuming she did it in four), the bit about not wanting to tell her my feelings is actually more worth focusing on.

I have always been a very good listener. One of the byproducts of that is that I heard a lot of people's deep, dark secrets. For instance, one of my girlfriends told me about being raped when she was a 11. Other friends told me about their awful home life. As a result, I had, stored in my head, a whole lot of other people's fear and anxiety and shame and whatever, and no way to let it out. That was tough to deal with sometimes.

Coupled with this was my own experience of being bullied in late elementary school and early middle school. My parents' advice at the time was to keep a stiff upper lip and not let my bullies know they were hurting me. I did my best, and eventually got very good at remaining stone-faced while getting my head slammed into the side of the bus. (I finally snapped and fought back one day in seventh grade -- and surprisingly that put an end to it. Had I known it would just take me shoving back, I would have done it years sooner, and more forcefully.) The unfortunate side effect was that I had trouble showing or sharing any emotion. That's an issue I still have to work on on occasion.

Secret writing:

Melissa and I screwed around tonight. I don't regret it, but I don't know what to do now. What to do, what to do...

Woah, did I give you whiplash? Here I am, in the space of a day, asking a girl to marry me someday to making out with some other girl? Craziness. But that was so me. I was talking with Cinnamon about this earlier: reading through these pages more closely than I have in years, especially the secret messages, I'm struck at how messed up I was. I ping-ponged between crushes and emotions and opinions on a daily basis. I suppose that's what being a teenager is about -- hormones wracking your body and brain -- but no wonder my parents didn't know how to handle me.

So, some explanation. Heather, Leslie and Melissa were freshmen and were in the West Side Story dance chorus. I became friends with them, and at some point we decided we'd all go bowling. (I probably told them about how that was a regular thing among my friends.) So it ended up that I picked them up, along with Mitch, another cast member, and met Mike at the alley in Lake Zurich. We had a lot of fun, and afterward went to the McDonald's at Ela and Route 12 for a bite to eat. It was a beautiful night, so we ended up hanging out outside -- and I got the great idea to climb the outside of the enclosed playground jungle gym thing and sit on top. Everybody joined me, and we hung out till one of the employees finally caught wind and kicked us out. From there, on Melissa's recommendation, we went to a two-story-tall berm that had been built to shield a new subdivision from the traffic noise at 22 and 59 and watched the moon rise. Melissa and I had been flirting all night, and had held hands on top of the jungle gym, and so I made my move. She was an incredible kisser. I was smitten. You can expect to read a lot more about her in the coming months.

I'm still really proud of the bowling drawing.

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About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Andrew Huff published on April 8, 2010 12:00 AM.

Tuesday, April 6 & Wednesday, April 7 was the previous entry in this blog.

Saturday, April 10 & Sunday, April 11 is the next entry in this blog.

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