Author and Columnist
See, you do not know Emily, so that confused you.
Yet another entry to which I have not been looking forward.
I wrote this for the first time as though I could wrap up your whole relationship with Emily through these days. Yes, this is a turning point in your life. I cannot predict what would happen without her interjection. However, I cannot spend each mention of her -- and there will be no lack of these -- nitpicking most of a decade.
As such, I will try to keep my focus small when responding to entries about her.
Emily was a complicated figure in your life for -- so sorry to say this -- at least seven years. She will loom large over the better part of a decade when you might better have dated a few weeks. Or, let's not dance around it, not at all. This is not to say that I wouldn't have wanted you to be friends, even best friends, but that the two of you did not belong together long term. Emily was often a blast, clever and passionate (though passionate for social justice and martial arts, not you). She just wasn't right for you, and you could not stand leaving her out of guilt, which is a world different than wanting to be with her.
I do not mean to imply, to say nothing of outright stating, that I hate or even dislike Emily, then or now (though you were not without dislike when she was gone and you started to see through falsehoods), but that I regret us. You were often not a good boyfriend for her and were not invested in the relationship, nor was she the girlfriend you needed.
Some do not embrace the notion that one can remember the harms dealt by a former relationship -- friendly, familial, and otherwise -- and still cherish the time spent together and the person with whom those memories were built. People I care about now or whose absences I mourn may have done me serious harm. They have lied to me, cheated on me, stolen from me, tried to force me into dangerous situations without my consent, manipulated me, and a hundred other venal to hell-worthy trespasses. And they have repented, apologized, and I have marked that good enough.
And some have not repented or apologized, but I work on forgiving them all the same.
[Tina] convinced me that a black fishnet shirt with silver studs in the shape of a skull and cross bones was exactly what my wardrobe required.
Oh, gosh, your fashion sense. I do not envy it, even if I envy other aspects of your young life.
If you listened to me, you would have far more for me to envy.
When I finally got to him [...] I saw that he indeed was lacking something quite profound in his life. I decided that it was a small, vanilla, cherry dipped ice cream cone. He, of course, begged to differ. He had the chocolate dip.
I miss the ease with which you see friends, pinioning from one to the other. It's tricky at best to connect with people, especially with other obligations and early nights. That is if there are people open to the connection, which they often are not.
the last ten minutes of Invader Zim (the best show no one is watching)
Bad news: that is an accurate assessment. It attains a cult audience, but Nickelodeon does not want a cult, no matter how much mall goths will buy the merch. It was canceled too soon because it was more teen than a children's network wanted.
Zack is a wise boy and it coping better than I did when I was in shoes of that sort.
Yes, probably. He may have clung to Veronica, but he healed better than you did from Kate, given that you rarely shut up about her still, nearly seven months after your breakup.
On Saturday, I decided that I was going to a Ren Fest somewhere near New Paltz. I brought Zack, who refused to dress in garb as he felt it was "just a lot of adults playing dress-up," and Nancy, who was in full, self-made wench wear.
I have a picture of Nancy there, looking uncomfortable. I would have instead you had gone with Nancy alone and not Zack.
Yes, I don't want you dating her. She is sixteen! However, she was also there to have the experience of the Ren Fest. You owe it to both of you to immerse yourself, not cave to Zack's detachment because you think it is the cooler perspective.
I should note that Zack was an actor then and dedicated himself to being an actor -- or at least theatrical -- after. It would have been fun for him to treat it as an improv exercise.
I was dismayed at how few people were in garb and considered removing some of mine (a rust colored poet shirt, woven leather belt, kriss dagger, and black velvet cloak). Nancy convinced me otherwise and noted that the abundance of Pagans presents would completely justify my array. This may have to go on my list of "Things I do not like about the perception of Paganism" list.
I still have the dagger and cloak despite having moved six times since and having purged my wardrobe at least four times. I do not often find a reason to wear either item, the nine-inch knife especially. (It is a shame. The cloak is velvety and lovely. We should bring back blankets as fashion accessories.)
You dislike much about other adherents to paths proximal to yours. It would be worth examining why you are embarrassed by association with other Pagans.
I gave an honest and firm hug to a tiny spiritual lass the Kate neglected recently. Very sweet girl, I hope she is around when I am at New Paltz.
You need to give these people names. I have no idea who you are talking about and would love to.
Zack was discontent with this festival on the whole, labeling the revelers (perhaps dead on) as delusional people trying to live out their fantasies.
Buy the ticket, take the ride. If he didn't want to have the experience of a Ren Fest, he shouldn't have come. Since he did come, he should keep his negativity to himself and allow the participants to have their festival. Is it goofy? Sure. Is this precisely the place to be goofy? Without a solitary doubt. They are not taking themselves seriously, but he sure is because it makes him feel uncool to be there.
Detachment is not remotely fun. You will eventually understand that, but not quickly enough. We can blame you for being a flannel-wearing teenager in the nineties.
Suddenly and without sufficient warning, a large Pagan ritual broke out. At the very least, I was embarrassed. I had not realized that this wasn't merely a faire, but that it was rather an attempt to push a religion onto the masses.
I agree that this is awkward, and one should clarify what an event is before springing this on the participants.
we began to quietly mock all of this. Of course, we got glared at.
As you should. Let them have their experience. We just covered this.
It was Beltane, for Eris's sake!
Yeah, given that it was Beltane, perhaps it is a bit disingenuous that you were this surprised.
This annoyed Zack further and I offered the caveat "these people to not represent me." When this wasn't sufficient, I told him we would leave soon and get ice cream.
Did Nancy want to leave? I suspect not. So, you deprived her of this to cede to Zack.
You were sweet for trying to help Zack feel better about a breakup. I am sure that others did similarly for you. However, you are not responsible for him.
I ended up buying a wooden croaking frog for my mother for Mother's Day and a skull mirror for myself.
I also still have this skull mirror displayed.
I cut the night short because I had to be up early Sunday in order to go to Salem.
Oh, this is disappointing. It might have been a turning point in your life, at least letting you get better into Coley's graces once more -- not romantically, as I believe she is dating the man who will become her first husband at the moment. Still, I've always liked her and wished that you had allowed a better friendship. Bryan shut off your alarms and, with them, your path to spend the day in Salem with PURE.
Had you gone to Salem, maybe you would have bonded with a member of PURE. I have no one in mind -- I only hazily remember who was there with you. However, this would have been an excellent time to make those memories.
However, I recalled that I had not spent much time with Melissa of late. After much cajoling, I convinced her that we needed to go to the Stormville Flea Market.
I had been bothered by the lack of Melissa in your recollections. I tell people that she was my best friend around this time -- I am nearly sure she ranked near the top -- but she had not much appeared. It made me doubt the closeness of your friendship.
Then, mulling this over, I remembered. Or, more precisely, I put something better into context that she had done to you. I wrote about it at length, so I will not repeat that here. Still, the rough points are that she sexually assaulted you, trying to do more, and you wanted to cut her out of your life to escape the shame of it.
This might be the first time you had seen her since that night. You do not seem bothered, but I know you would never directly write that anyway. I believe you are, in a sense, repressing what happened so that you can continue your life as usual. It did affect you. It drove some of your romantic missteps, for which I have been criticizing you, as you tried to find a serious girlfriend in part so she would never try anything again, citing that you were single.
You didn't want it. She should never have tried to take advantage. You don't have to ignore what you went through because you fear that she would tell people and they wouldn't believe you.
It is not your fault.
When I got home, I was greeted by Zanna attacking me on-line (earlier in the day, Alison had done so for Zanna, but was quick to realize the allegations were ridiculous), claiming that I was doing all sorts of unspeakable things to Nancy.
Did these suspicions derive from Wren's mind or some other source? What motivated them? Undoubtedly not friendly concern alone. Had Nancy implied anything that might lead him to think this?
(because, hey, what is going to college to be a teacher when compared with the sweet pleasure that is a teenager? Have you dealt with a 16 year old recently? I'd rather seduce a rabid tigress than deal with high school people as more than friends. I more than learned my lesson with Eileen, and I knew her for years),
I mean, my friend, you did make out with Nancy. And you would have done more than that with Eileen had you dated. You protest too much.
It is an age difference of fewer than four years, but those are intense years for a girl.
As a teacher now, I do agree. A teenager can be adorable, bright, or fun, but I cannot fathom anyone outside of high school wanting them. To me, anyone under 25 seems child-like.
You learned a lesson from Eileen, but perhaps not the one you claim.
That they are not does not mean I should have to put up with sophomoric games and power trips.
Which are, of course, the purpose of high school.
After this social debacle, I called Kate for some cheering up.
That is categorically not Kate's purpose in your life.
The main point of the conversation is that she really wishes I would get a girlfriend so I could get over her.
Fatal words. A girlfriend is the last thing you should have right now, not that you haven't been trying your damnedest out of post-adolescent romantic horniness, abandonment issues, spring fever, and various trauma.
As we have covered, date if you must, but commit to no one until you have a good idea of what you want and are not burdensome to them.
Yes, I am aware of how you started this entry and how you ignore me.
I told her quite plainly that she had no right to tell me what to do, especially like that,
She can tell you to get over her. One has every right to tell a friend to move on.
She cannot foist you on another young woman to quit her guilt over jerking you around.
I would not want to be with someone just to get over Kate,
And yet is that not what happens? Are you not an emotional terror for Emily, who we may agree is not in the soundest headspace right now?
You are. Indeed, you are.
I would feel like such a user.
Do you feel like a user when you do precisely this?
I am completely disillusioned and no longer think so highly of teaching there.
I would gladly teach at a school like Poughkeepsie Day School. Yelling at students is not the best praxis, but it does happen. It is still a great school.
Your wife may be currently a student there! You may have passed her in the halls!
You would not want to know what grade.
When she did actually have to face me, she tersely asked why I didn't say "hi" to her before. Hmm... the fact that she is accusing me of hideous acts couldn't have anything to do with my reticence to engage her, could it? Actually, it didn't. I only saw her from behind and didn't recognize her. I told her, knowing that as she perceives herself as transgendered she would take this as a compliment, she looked like a boy from behind.
He is transgender -- an adjective, not a past tense verb -- so that works.
Edwin McCain's song "I'll Be" began playing on my computer (it is set to random mode). Something seized me and I focused my energy of finding someone like the person described in the song.
You need better taste in music and magick.
Fate was basically telling me that the plan I had was a bloody bad idea and that, while I was free to do so, it was rather preferable to the universe that I let it unfold as expected.
It was me! I was telling you to stop being an idiot and leave women alone. Why won't you listen? You even make clear how you are not supposed to do this! You know.
I stated that I would be happy to leave the universe be if I got something in return. Namely, a remarkable female in my life to care for. Fate asked me if there wasn't some way I would just behave on my own, I stated there was not.
You disappoint me. The Universe is not your vending machine, especially for women. (Do not call women "females." We discussed this.)
Tuesday, I skipped classes because Tina and another friend were going to register for classes at New Paltz.
You literally did the wrong thing. Had you behaved yourself as the Universe apparently asked, you don't go to this, and you do not meet Emily. Sure, you might have met her when you started at SUNY New Paltz, but you would have had a summer of sorting yourself out before considering her.
I was told that my registration date was not until June 6th. This seemed quite ridiculous, as absolutely no classes would be available by then.
That is not how college registrations work when one is a transfer student.
Knowing that I possess a certain charm, I felt I could get in. At worse, they would bar me entrance and I would go to classes.
I will grant you do have this sort of wide-eyed, "Oh, sir, I didn't realize this wasn't okay" charm that lets you get away with things.
After some affected cluelessness and a great deal of polite smiles (along with $20), my name appeared on the entry list.
Being polite does tend to get you through doors.
Suddenly, in front of me, I saw a rather comely lass with a glowing silver star on her chest.
You are in the wrong place at the wrong time twice over. First, you shouldn't even be at this orientation session, then your seats were taken, and you ended up here.
I do not think that the Universe is as on your side as you choose to believe.
She seemed highly pleased to see us and informed me that she had paged me to remind me to go to New Paltz today. However, my batteries were dead so it wouldn't have helped, though I appreciated the gesture.
And then there is a dead battery? How much of a sign do you need that you are not supposed to be there?
During the lunch break, I realized that I was quite close to this girl. Swallowing my fear like a gel capped Tylenol, I asked her if she would like some company as we ate. She was quite warm and stated that she very much should like my company.
You walked backward in the lunch line to sit near her. I have to say, all of this "YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG" foreshadowing is more than heavy-handed at this point.
We spoke on a number of topics, not the least of which was Paganism and the fact that she somewhat knew of me through a famous friend of hers who knew about my organization.
I am suspicious of this fact. She has famous Pagan friends, but it is unlikely they knew about an eGroup called The Mid-Hudson Pagan Network or you. But Emily was given to stories that were satisfying enough not to bother examining further.
Her adviser then came, so I bid her adieu and she assured me that we would see each other again.
And she was gone without contact information. Surely, that is the last we will hear of her. You had lunch with a young woman, a single-serve conversation. Maybe you will see her when classes start, but maybe not...
As I was about to register, I found Emily exiting a building I was about to enter.
Yes, I am aware.
Fine, technically, you did nothing wrong. This is a meet-cute. You want to date women -- even though you shouldn't -- and Emily is a woman. She is intriguing, and you have things in common. Exchange emails. See what I care.
Katie insisted I was being quiet, though I think it was more that I was listening. Entirely different, you know.
I anticipate that Kate heard one of her hooks slip out of you, though far from all of them. When you are yammering, she knows exactly how you feel about her. When you are thinking about someone who is not her, she senses the absence of your sometimes unwelcomed attention.
I don't know how she felt about Eileen or even Nancy. I suspect that she didn't consider them too much of threats to her primacy in your heart.
Emily will rightly consider Kate a threat.
If you are a stranger, I will tell you a story.
I do not care to read this story. Not necessarily for the reasons you want to think. This is one of those times when you were filmic rather than authentic. The longer you go in a relationship with someone for whom you care but with whom you should not be, the more you lean on a fictional carapace to ease yourself.
How much of this letter bore the faint flavor of spiting Kate for telling you to move on? Emily didn't deserve that.
After lunch we parted ways, but our paths crossed again a few hours later, as I knew they would, and there exchanged e-mail addresses.
You did not know this beyond that it is what should happen in a movie.
people are getting antsy for the next journal entry on my website.
Ha. No, they aren't. People read them -- almost entirely the friends you mention -- but no one is on tenterhooks for these.
Merry vegetables,
Oh, I get it. Not "Merry meet," since she is vegan. Funny.
Tonight, I saw dear Emily.
Before reading the rest to refresh my memory, let me tell you what I remember of this date.
Emily was sitting on a pillar outside the diner, writing in a journal. You looked at her, and knew. She was not the one. The flirtiness on campus had given way to a young woman -- two years your senior yet seeming older -- who was not as you recalled. You felt a small weight in your stomach, knowing that this was not something you should be doing and that you were leading her on already. However, you were there. She could make for a good friend, so you saw no harm in going in and chatting with her.
If you were capable of being honest with yourself, you would have done little harm.
You were there many hours, divulging yourselves to one another because that seemed to be the thing to do over pancakes late at night. I was there too, invisible and unnoticed, counting on my insubstantial fingers red flags. She told of more trauma than anyone deserved, though I cannot recall enough to sort through which verifiably happened and which did not.
Her confessions did not serve to make her more attractive -- she was too much for you -- but you found damage intriguing. You did for too long in your teens because those cracked by life had to fill their spaces with personality. No one could ever accuse Emily of lacking that.
She was sitting, cross-legged and still, like some alabaster goddess in the moist night air.
You did not think this! You just knew she would read it -- and maybe that Kate would -- so you are going ridiculously overboard in this description.
Gods, I wanted to kiss her!
No, you didn't! You felt disappointed that you ended up in this situation, that she was not how you pictured her in your mind. Stop lying.
She really was quite beautiful to me, as you can no doubt tell.
Do I have to keep saying this? She was cute, but she was not your type.
When I saw the woman who became my wife, there was no question. She was so much my type that I could hardly process resisting her. I wanted her on so profound a level that, the moment I touched my future wife's hand, I knew that I was intoxicated with her well beyond rationality.
Rather than entering the diner we had met at, she stated that she needed a fan from Wal-Mart. This seemed nice enough, so we did so.
Though I did not initially remember this trip, I at once knew how you would try to find meaning in the purchase of a box fan, ignoring the Universe screaming for you to get away.
It occurred to me that perhaps Emily was the universe's response to me.
You even said that the Universe told you not to do this. You wrote the words! "Fate was basically telling me that the plan I had was a bloody bad idea..."
Why are you ignoring the warning you dictated?
It was about as subtle as celestial forces like to be.
As you stated, the Universe was explicit, and you ignored everything aside from a cheesy song.
As such, beware of falling anvils.
Why? You seem to excel at them going over your head.
And I held her hands and kissed her fingers.
Don't do this. You are acting, doing what you think will make a good scene. You are not authentically living this moment.
It was amazing, disclosing little secrets.
This might be why I regret your having started this journal. You lived and wrote for an audience who was not there but loomed large in your head. Rather than confiding in a friend about a first date that didn't require a second, you told the world and the woman who would have been sad to hear your truth.
She is just getting out of a relationship
A lie. She was still in a relationship at the time. She said that she hated the guy, and he was abusive -- I cannot tell you that this is true, but she said it. She was not single.
If you had more sense and less naivety, you would question the things people tell you.
I tend to not want to be just kissed.
By her. You kissed (and tried to feel up) Nancy days before without anything more than feeling guilty about your lack of self-control. You kissed Eileen's neck and shoulder. You've definitely kissed Kate far too much.
You are not averse to being kissed. Stop using an excuse you do not believe to make the people who kiss you feel special.
But I do know that I do not wish to be the rebound guy, ever.
See how you are trying to make excuses to keep her at arm's length while still seeming like a Good Guy?
Remember the axiom, "If they cheat with you, they will cheat on you?"
She has a boyfriend -- or says she does later. She breaks up with him over the phone while you are present -- or you witness her saying this into the receiver.
Stay away.
I want something very real with Emily. I think I can have it.
No, you don't. You had an okay first date, but you didn't feel the connection you wanted. You had a better connection with the Earth Traders woman months before -- though Emily seemed wittier than her. But that woman wasn't going to read your journal. That woman did not reply to your email.
For the first time since Kate, someone feels so real and right to me I could cry for joy.
You should cry.
It is not for joy.