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The later date was brief, but cuddly (not kiss-y, you'll please note). So, we are on playful, good, but pretty unspoken terms. I visited her surreptitiously several nights ago and she seemed sullen. But she was playful, sweet, and bright on the phone today.
On the phone, all sweetness and fondness. In-person, bothered. I cannot know the turmoil within her or what part you play in it, but I can persist in wondering if it wasn't that seeing you forced Kate to confront things that she did not want to have to say to you.
If Kate doesn't want my head to implode, Kate will remain and make me feel appreciated.
Kate comes to the afterparty for the play and tells a childish, off-color joke to the cast (the core of the joke was "kids say the darnedest things," not "80s standup comedian at a Klan rally"), entirely because she thinks it is funny to horrify you.
When you confront her on this, she says, grinning, something to the effect of: "Your friends think I am an n-word hater, but I'm not an n-word hater." She demonstrable is fond of Black people -- then as now -- but making you that uncomfortable and self-righteous delighted her.
She was showering because she was going to see me? Really? Neat!
You put far too much weight on a young woman showering when it is not with you.
When she arrived, I was blown away. She seemed so collegially comely, in a long tan skirt, purple turtleneck fleece and hair like a Smurf's chess board (blue and black). She insisted I looked very different with glasses, but I got the distinct feeling that she liked how I looked.
Much like that deer skeleton, I remember this outfit sharply. It is strange what sticks in one's memory. The rest of the date is faded, but not her shirt.
Kate made several references to this being a first date, which came as both a relief and shock to me. It seemed like she wanted this to be clearly defined as much as I did. Good-o.
Yeah, man, I don't know. I do think these were actual dates -- the sort I want you to be going on with women who are not Kate. As much as I do not believe you should be in the same zip code as her, I suspect that there could have been a future where there were more dates. I am not saying that you two ever get back together in this potential future and remain adamant that you never should, but you were close to something more than being overly friendly exes.
I wasn't sure how to handle a last kiss, so I asked her if it was appropriate and she hid her head in her turtleneck in mock fear. So, as she gave me a long, fond hug goodbye, I gave her one on the cheek.
I'm grateful you just kissed her cheek, but you could have had more. It's a cute reaction.
So, as much as I do not want you on this date, full marks in this little scene.
At the restaurant, she made me take off my glasses, because they had transitioned to sunglasses in the heavily overcast daylight and she insisted that it made me look stupid.
And you wish to date her because...?
Then she insisted her hair was so ugly that people beat it up, thus why it was black and blue and began mock crying into her arms. Are we all clear on exactly why I adore this girl? Good.
Ah, because you crave a Manic Panic Dream Girl.
I asked if she wanted anything to eat and she said no, she had just eaten. Then, as an addendum to that statement, she said, "Are you getting the greasy ball things?" I asked if she meant fried wonton and she affirmed that she believed that was what they were called. I told her that I had no planned on it, but that I would happily get some for her. She ingratiatingly nodded yes and I did so.
I have been on, depending on definitions, hundreds of dates (most, yes, with long-term partners, but a date is still a date). Why is getting bad Chinese food with Kate still indelible? Without reading this entry, I would not have hesitated a moment to describe what had happened with her.
She ate quite a few and some of my crispy chicken to boot. And she drank out of my Cherry Coke though she could have had a beverage of her own. See, guys, that can be significant. She wants your germs.
Yes, she wanted more than your germs. Did she want your commitment? I highly doubt it, but you offer her both too willingly.
I tickled her side and then held her against me and kissed her cheek several times. This was okay because "I had her trapped." Right, prisoners of war are required to let their captors kiss them. It is in the Geneva Convention. Under the bit about Stockholm's Syndrome Sufferers.
Cute in all senses.
Still, stop.
On Monday night, when I got home from the first date, I was talking to Eileen on-line.
Gosh, I am sure that this interaction will go well, as Eileen fully lets go of you and harbors no residual feelings that you know you are prodding -- both because you want her reaction and know you will write about it and so wish to forewarn her.
Instead, she was quite angry and began telling me "we all know whom I should really be with." Then she got off-line.
We can excuse that she is in high school and too young for you.
We can excuse this, but only barely.
If it helps, I wish you had dated Eileen more. Not simply because I wish that you hadn't tried to date Kate again, charming though she is. Eileen was bright and sweet. She had an inner loveliness, even when she was younger and assisted you at the Children's Museum. A good egg. If Eileen had asked, even a few dates into Kate's snare, I believe you would have considered.
Eileen didn't want you, but she wanted you on her line as much as Kate did. It is delightful to be adored, and you adore well.
This irked me quite a bit and I had been having quite a nice night up to that point so I fired off an e-mail telling her that I wish she wouldn't play games like that with me. She got angry with me for the letter, except her anger seemed more long lasting. I was irked, I told her why I was irked, she understood, I was no longer irked. Problem solved in my eyes. But she was still angry, and I suppose I understand why.
I can make myself see this from her perspective. She cared for you and, I suspect, rolled around in her mind some grand gesture on your part that would result in the two of you having a more significant interaction than flirting online. She knew that you were a prospect, that you felt warmly toward her in a way that her classmates might not have.
And you were leaving. You were being drawn back to the only woman in your life whose hold on you exceeded hers. It was fine for her to keep you at arm's length (with beckoning fingers), but she didn't want you to move toward Kate.
You should have dated Eileen, but it wouldn't have been for long, and I suspect she would not like you much after.
She is young and needs her anger. It is not wholly at your letter, and you know this.
A few days later, she IMs me, stating that I didn't deserve more than a hello and she was still mad. I told her I just presumed that she was busy with these boys and was leaving her be, but that I wish she wouldn't stay angry because she means a lot to me.
Eileen is a high school student, a breed not accustomed to being able to articulate fully what they think and need. If she had said, "Listen, you dope, I don't know if I want to be your girlfriend, but I have yet to give up the idea that maybe I want to be sometimes. Your getting cozy with the ex who kept tearing you to shreds pains me. Can you give me a little more time? Can you not go on more dates with Kate until I decide?" It might not have been fair, but you would know where you stood with her and could have made a mature and informed decision instead of apologizing for something you didn't believe.
I cannot see much of a reason for anger except that she liked you, even when she was hanging out with friends in what might have been a date.
But, assuming that you are telling the fullest truth you could, you seem to be doing the best you can, given the circumstances.
At least, you are with Eileen.
I called her to ask her if she was coming to my play. She seemed very friendly and happy to hear from me to the extent that I had to say "Eileen? I am talking to Eileen, right?" So I think we are good now.
I may be foolish trying to make sense of your relationship at present.
A few nights ago, my friend Nancy informed me that she had been mulling it over at great length and that she had decided that she was actually in love with me.
Poor Nancy. No one should decide at this point in your life that they are in love with you, particularly not another high school sophomore. To her, I do not recall you behaving in a way deserving of her love.
I extended to her the courtesy I would hypocritically deny her peers, and chose to believe that she knew exactly what she was saying.
Maybe don't? She is sixteen and fawning over you. We have every reason to assume that she may believe she means it but would cringe in a few years at the embarrassment of it.
She knows me well enough and is a very intelligent girl, mentally and psychoemotionally.
You give as evidence that she reads this journal and thus knows you. I cannot deny that it is a persistent issue in your life that you presume that reading you is an acceptable substitute for knowing you.
Allow me to give you an example that doesn't directly involve you, so you can better understand my point. I own a copy of Sylvia Plath's letters to her parents. I also own an edited copy of her private journals. I rhetorically asked the point of having both and was reminded that one does not write in letters what one writes privately. This journal, for public consumption, is closer to the former. What Plath may have written would have been several layers of abstraction from other people's perceptions of her.
So, what Nancy reads of you may not be enough for love. That she can read what you are doing (or not doing) and even like you is startling.
Perhaps I wish she did not love me, as that would make all of this real.
She doesn't love you, and I wish the same. I recall you hurting her because you do not control yourself enough.
She is coming down tomorrow around 11. We are going to go to an Earth Day fair being held near my house and are hanging out until my play at eight, which she will be attending.
Oh. Oh no. I am sure this is where you kiss her. How else would you be near your room?
You are so weak.
And, if you make out with her tomorrow, does something happen with Kate before then that pushes you to be so weak? Or do you just do it because someone is giving you attention?
Wait.
Wait one damned moment here.
Have I read correctly that Kate, Eileen, and Nancy are all coming to your play? The three women with whom you have some level of romantic discomfort and interpersonal drama? Surely not the same night, though, correct? That would be a sitcom-level contrivance. I fear even reading the following entry to see what you did.
My friend Zanna has been behaving oddly toward me since Nancy took such an interest in me. Originally, my pet theory was that she had a crush on dear Nancy and perceived me as a rival suitor.
Wren is a transman married to another transman (both fantastic artists, not that this is specifically relevant to their sexualities or genders unless "aesthete" is either of those). I do not know anything further about his romantic interest.
However, I do not think it is unfair to imagine that jealousy played a part.
At which point the old acquaintance began berating me that I had no reason to hate her, "that [she had] heard the issue from every side but [mine], but [I am] wrong. [I] just fear her strength" blah, blah, blah the claw is our mastercakes.
I will skip the preamble you included and say that people accreted around a woman who was sexually inappropriate toward underage people -- you included. If the genders were reversed, the woman would have been arrested for taking pictures of teenagers in sexual situations and threatening to distribute these if the kids didn't comply with her, sliding Polaroids of her naked body under your parents' door, and finding excuses to touch young people against their will and see them undressed.
The person berating you at a Denny's was among those who threw her lot in with the woman mentioned above. No wonder you couldn't take her ranting seriously.
I responded dismissively to her deciding exactly how I thought and felt based upon the testimony of someone who believes I am capable of summoning demons and would waste my time and energy sicking one on her
Yes, it is remarkable that people thought that woman had any credibility, but they saw what they wanted.
The next may be a psychic energy night at a member's house and yard (as it is so very nice out now), which would be excellent and certainly of note.
Oh, while we are talking about sex offenders... If that is the member I think it is, he is still serving time in prison for child pornography and statutory/direct rape, including two of your friends.
I saw a documentary about the genocide in Rwanda in 1994.
That documentary may have been when you began to lose confidence in the government, as Bill Clinton refused to label it genocide and therefore withheld aid that could have saved 800,000 people.
I try to bring it up in class at least once a year, usually with mediocre success.
What impressed me was the girl laying near me, Mary, who whistled as they drained her.
Yet another weird moment that has stuck with me. She is still vivid, though it may in part be my regret that you didn't somehow parlay mutual blood donation as a reason to give her your number.
To my recollection, you never see her again.
Speaking of paths and lasses, I saw Irish Bird the other morning. Actually, she saw me and greeted me chipperly.
I suspect that, with a few tweaks in where your attention was focused and how you behaved, you might have been friends with her. These tweaks never happen, so it remains my speculation and nothing more.