Oh Captain
Ad 2:
2002-06-21 09:41:17 (UTC)

Chapter 8

It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that
makes us unhappy.
When I first met Cameron...I shouldn’t say “met,”
because I’d seen him around before. When he first
moved into town, he got a job working warehouse in the
Restaurant Depot where I was a receptionist. But when
we first actually interacted, which I guess is the better
term, we really hit it off. There was just this one small
problem: his girlfriend, Rebecca. The thing about
Cameron is, he can be really hardcore
sometimes--even to the point of being scary--which I
think is just totally sexy; but at other times, he’s really
kind and sweet, which is cool as well, except when he
becomes so kind that it becomes detrimental to
himself. I dunno, maybe this has something to do with
his experiences with Dean that he won’t tell me about,
or something about his childhood, but the point is that
it’s like there’s two Camerons to everything. I don’t
mean as drastic as a split personality, because it’s
always that same kind of disheveled and disorganized
voice yet with that uncanny unerring focus on...whatever
it is he brings it around to at the end. But he can be
passionate one minute and totally apathetic the next.

So anyway, he was having some...difficulty with
Rebecca. We’d occasionally talked, and I knew that he
was going out with her fairly early. Shot down my
intentions. But it seemed like she was always kind of
half-assing it, y’know? Just...not altogether there. But
he was crazy for her nonetheless, even though he bent
over backwards for her. Seemed to be a recurring
theme in his family, from what he tells me about his
father and his brother. So he really needed someone
to talk to one night, and we went to an all-night diner
downtown. And talked, and talked, and talked. From
what I gathered, the only high points for Cameron came
from what he put into their relationship. Making her
happy was what made him happy. Rebecca, for the
most part, seemed to me to be totally unresponsive.
There were occasional glimmers, where she’d do
something sweet or buy something for him out of the
blue, but he did these kinds of things all the time
because he was so impulsive and he just loved to see
her happy. If I didn’t know about his stubbornness to
make things work the first time before totally giving
up--or their situation--I would have thought he was
codependent. And then she’d pull this shit where she’d
say he was trying to buy her love or something, when
really it was his love for her that caused him to buy the
things. She was such a bitch. Eight and a half months,
almost nine, he put up with this. That’s four moves for
Cameron. Jayzus, I don’t know how he could deal.

So he’s telling me this, and I don’t mind in the least.
Partly because I know what it’s like to need to just
unload, and partly because I just want to spend some
time with him, and I think the waiter is giving us free
drinks because he thinks we’re a couple or something.
And in a second, I decide that I’ll just go for it. The
words flow into my brain, and then more importantly,
out my mouth, almost like I’m in front of a sketch pad or
a canvas and about to craft something delicate yet with
a lasting impression. Subtle, but firm.

“So, if all this bad shit is going on, then why do you even

He thought for a minute. Then he just looked at the
table for another minute, looked up at me through
suddenly clear eyes, and said very calmly:

“You know, I don’t have a goddamned clue.”

How did I get on this tangent? Oh yeah, we’re moving.
He told me to pick him up in that alley the other day, and
we went back to my studio apartment. He had all these
lists and papers and shit like that, all stuffed in his
pockets or in the pages of his notebook. Tons of
photographs too, little polaroids of broken mailboxes
and minivans looking like they’d been covered in papier
mache. I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention. All
I know is, I’ve gotta go now ‘cuz I’ve got some packing
to catch up on.