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Published On: Apr 26, 2006 10:02 PM
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Published On: Apr 26, 2006 10:02 PM
Don't you ever feel ANYTHING?
I've probably not made it clear in here, but I
don't think I'll ever get married.
It's not that I have anything against relationships in general; they're just things that happen to other people. I'm okay with that, most of the time.
Occasionally, though, I get lonely. I myself differentiate between "lonely" and "alone." "Lonely" is a state in which one longs for companionship. "Alone" is the lack of companionship in the immediate vicinity. Either one can happen in an empty room or while surrounded by people. I am often alone. I rarely get lonely. On those rare occasions, I find myself wishing for someone to hang onto. Talking isn't even necessary. Just a physical presence that I can touch and thereby prove to myself that I still exist.
Don't look at me like that. I'm willing to bet you've felt the exact same way.
Once upon a time, there was a girl to whom I thought I could get married. Her name was Rachel, and I met her when we were in the second grade. A truly wonderful person. I can't begin to describe what she was like beyond that. I sometimes think I remember every moment we spent together.
We grew up, and went to college in different cities. Afterwards, I went on to graduate school, and she got a job in Memphis. We still talked, and I thought occasionally that someday we might be together.
One day in November of 1996, I arrived at my on-campus job as a security guard, for the start of a very weird afternoon and night. The Department secretary had a message from my Dad -- y'see, I didn't have a phone at the time. She said "You can use the phone in here, if you want." I remember saying "No, I'll make the call down in my office. This is bad news."
Turns out I knew what I was talking about. I remember the first part of that conversation almost exactly.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Dad."
"How are you doing?"
"OK, at the moment."
"I've got something I have to tell you. They found Rachel in her apartment. She had been dead a few days."
After that it gets kind of blurry. I remember him asking me if I was okay, and assuring him that I wasn't; that I was going home and I would call him later. I hung up the phone, and collapsed. I bawled my eyes out (quietly; this was the halls of academia, after all). I have no idea how long I cried. Hel, you want the truth? I'm crying a little right now.
When I had myself under some semblance of control, I walked back down to the secretary's office. I told her I couldn't work today, that one of my best friends was dead. It obviously wasn't just an excuse. I started heading out of the building, and realized that it was Monday and I had class that night, and my professor was in the same building (same office as the secretary). I went back in, knocked on her door and told her I wouldn't be there that evening. She was understanding, for the most part, aside from a remark about "Boy, you sure know a lot of dead people."
Got outside the building again, and realized there was something I just HAD to do. I was about to go seriously mad, and I might never remember it again, and it was a point of honor. I walked back inside, and went to another of my professors' offices. She was sitting there, and I said "Remember how you told me if the fraternity was making me irresponsible about school, that I should drop it? You were absolutely right, and I have." By this point the half-smile on her face had turned to a serious look of concern; I could only imagine what I looked like just then. She asked what was wrong and I told her. She asked if I needed a ride home, and I said no, I would be just fine. I left the building, got in my Jeep, and drove home.
(this story is leading up to something. bear with me)
Got home, laid down on the couch, and started to prepare myself to vent some more grief through my opticals. Was really just getting started when I hard a horrible noise. I know; this is ridiculous. Two cars had struck each other outside my apartment. Since I was an EMT, I grabbed my first aid kit and ran outside. Got the old lady and the teenager calmed down before the ambulance arrived; they actually hugged at one point. Went back in, laid down on the couch and realized: whatever the crying moment had been, it was gone now. After an afternoon of emotions all over the map, I was numb.
(almost there, I promise. end of this paragraph)
So, as I numbly lay on the couch, just staring off into space, my roommate (the vampire cult leader) showed up. Saw me and asked how I was. I looked at him (all numb and stuff), and said "The girl I thought I could marry died." He knew I was telling the truth, and looked completely shocked. "Don't you ever feel ANYTHING?" he asked incredulously.
I did the worst thing imaginable, in the situation. I mean, put yourself in my shoes. I'm all numb, all cried out, and Bozo the Lord of the Undead is asking me if I have any feelings.
I busted out laughing.
He shook his head and walked disgustedly out of the room.
November of 1996 turned out to be the worst month of my life to date. Later that month there were the murders (yeah, yeah. I'll explain some other time), which didn't really help my mood, but before that I had to survive the memorial service. Let's just say the hometown Methodist church choir contains 85 percent of my high school teachers, who would look at me and burst into tears. Let's just say that the preacher said "Rachel" three times and mentioned his god hundreds. Let's just say that I almost punched out the mother of one of my high school classmates, and that MY mother was afraid I was going to do damage to others before we got out of there. Yeah. Let's just say that.
You may be wondering why I wrote about this. Honestly, I didn't start out to do so. I was just going to write about the difference between being alone and lonely. Somewhere along the way, I changed the title. I chose the subject subconsciously. You see, I still dream about rachel, and I did so yesterday. In my dreams she is always alive, and I don't know that she's dead. For a few moments after I wake up, in my mind she's not dead. Then I remember.
Do I like being alone? Often. Do I ever feel anything? Yes, almost all the time. Do I ever feel lonely? Yeah, sometimes.
It's not that I have anything against relationships in general; they're just things that happen to other people. I'm okay with that, most of the time.
Occasionally, though, I get lonely. I myself differentiate between "lonely" and "alone." "Lonely" is a state in which one longs for companionship. "Alone" is the lack of companionship in the immediate vicinity. Either one can happen in an empty room or while surrounded by people. I am often alone. I rarely get lonely. On those rare occasions, I find myself wishing for someone to hang onto. Talking isn't even necessary. Just a physical presence that I can touch and thereby prove to myself that I still exist.
Don't look at me like that. I'm willing to bet you've felt the exact same way.
Once upon a time, there was a girl to whom I thought I could get married. Her name was Rachel, and I met her when we were in the second grade. A truly wonderful person. I can't begin to describe what she was like beyond that. I sometimes think I remember every moment we spent together.
We grew up, and went to college in different cities. Afterwards, I went on to graduate school, and she got a job in Memphis. We still talked, and I thought occasionally that someday we might be together.
One day in November of 1996, I arrived at my on-campus job as a security guard, for the start of a very weird afternoon and night. The Department secretary had a message from my Dad -- y'see, I didn't have a phone at the time. She said "You can use the phone in here, if you want." I remember saying "No, I'll make the call down in my office. This is bad news."
Turns out I knew what I was talking about. I remember the first part of that conversation almost exactly.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Dad."
"How are you doing?"
"OK, at the moment."
"I've got something I have to tell you. They found Rachel in her apartment. She had been dead a few days."
After that it gets kind of blurry. I remember him asking me if I was okay, and assuring him that I wasn't; that I was going home and I would call him later. I hung up the phone, and collapsed. I bawled my eyes out (quietly; this was the halls of academia, after all). I have no idea how long I cried. Hel, you want the truth? I'm crying a little right now.
When I had myself under some semblance of control, I walked back down to the secretary's office. I told her I couldn't work today, that one of my best friends was dead. It obviously wasn't just an excuse. I started heading out of the building, and realized that it was Monday and I had class that night, and my professor was in the same building (same office as the secretary). I went back in, knocked on her door and told her I wouldn't be there that evening. She was understanding, for the most part, aside from a remark about "Boy, you sure know a lot of dead people."
Got outside the building again, and realized there was something I just HAD to do. I was about to go seriously mad, and I might never remember it again, and it was a point of honor. I walked back inside, and went to another of my professors' offices. She was sitting there, and I said "Remember how you told me if the fraternity was making me irresponsible about school, that I should drop it? You were absolutely right, and I have." By this point the half-smile on her face had turned to a serious look of concern; I could only imagine what I looked like just then. She asked what was wrong and I told her. She asked if I needed a ride home, and I said no, I would be just fine. I left the building, got in my Jeep, and drove home.
(this story is leading up to something. bear with me)
Got home, laid down on the couch, and started to prepare myself to vent some more grief through my opticals. Was really just getting started when I hard a horrible noise. I know; this is ridiculous. Two cars had struck each other outside my apartment. Since I was an EMT, I grabbed my first aid kit and ran outside. Got the old lady and the teenager calmed down before the ambulance arrived; they actually hugged at one point. Went back in, laid down on the couch and realized: whatever the crying moment had been, it was gone now. After an afternoon of emotions all over the map, I was numb.
(almost there, I promise. end of this paragraph)
So, as I numbly lay on the couch, just staring off into space, my roommate (the vampire cult leader) showed up. Saw me and asked how I was. I looked at him (all numb and stuff), and said "The girl I thought I could marry died." He knew I was telling the truth, and looked completely shocked. "Don't you ever feel ANYTHING?" he asked incredulously.
I did the worst thing imaginable, in the situation. I mean, put yourself in my shoes. I'm all numb, all cried out, and Bozo the Lord of the Undead is asking me if I have any feelings.
I busted out laughing.
He shook his head and walked disgustedly out of the room.
November of 1996 turned out to be the worst month of my life to date. Later that month there were the murders (yeah, yeah. I'll explain some other time), which didn't really help my mood, but before that I had to survive the memorial service. Let's just say the hometown Methodist church choir contains 85 percent of my high school teachers, who would look at me and burst into tears. Let's just say that the preacher said "Rachel" three times and mentioned his god hundreds. Let's just say that I almost punched out the mother of one of my high school classmates, and that MY mother was afraid I was going to do damage to others before we got out of there. Yeah. Let's just say that.
You may be wondering why I wrote about this. Honestly, I didn't start out to do so. I was just going to write about the difference between being alone and lonely. Somewhere along the way, I changed the title. I chose the subject subconsciously. You see, I still dream about rachel, and I did so yesterday. In my dreams she is always alive, and I don't know that she's dead. For a few moments after I wake up, in my mind she's not dead. Then I remember.
Do I like being alone? Often. Do I ever feel anything? Yes, almost all the time. Do I ever feel lonely? Yeah, sometimes.
Posted: Thu - March 11, 2004 at 04:11 PM