The Nine Faces of Dave
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can't get her out of my head
So I've been home for about six days now, and I've managed
to drop about 2 or 3 pounds so far. Not bad for being home
less than a week, I suppose, though I'm really not going to
feel any better until I see some results. Hard to say just
how long that will take, though.
I took my first crack at skateboarding today, practicing my
balance and such out on the back porch. I was doing pretty
well until I fell on my ass and got discouraged. I guess if
I'm going to learn how to do this right, I should talk to my
brother; he's very good at skateboarding. The only problem
there is that he's been pretty damn busy, and his health is
not the best right now as near as we can tell. Then again,
he's never been in particularly great health, but there have
been times when he's done pretty well. I just hope he'll be
all right; he's really the only one of my siblings with whom
I'm really all that close.
I've been sleeping until about 2:00 PM just about every day
since I've been back, and as much as I enjoy sleeping in, I
can't help but feel a little guilty about it, like I should
be getting up a little earlier and getting things done. At
any rate, I'm going to see if I can start getting to sleep a
little earlier. If nothing else, it'll help if I spend less
time awake by myself, since that's when I start feeling bad.
I'm not sure what you'd call it, perhaps "night depression"
or some such name. What happens is, right around 2:00 AM, I
start feeling really bad about the way my life is right now,
and how it's gone in years past. Of course, this only seems
to happen if I'm alone at the time, as I am now.
I'm not sure what brings on these feelings, or even what the
appropriate term for it would be. The best description that
I can give is a mixture of despair, regret, and feelings of
failure, with a good dose of deep blue funk.
It doesn't really make any sense from a logical standpoint.
I'm young enough that I shouldn't be freaking out about the
current state of my social life; after all, at 18, I've got
plenty of time left to meet people. Regret is, for the most
part, pointless; you can't change the past, and focusing on
it keeps you from planning for the future and dealing with
the present day. And as for failure, I'm doing quite well
academically, and that's what I should be focused on at this
stage of my life, right?
But that's the whole problem. I can't help feeling like I'm
missing out on something. And I don't think it's entirely
unjustified; socially, I'm probably significantly worse off
than most of my peers. And I find that very discouraging.
I would imagine that a lot of what I'm feeling at nights is
stemming from some unpleasant stuff that happened involving
a girl I know. I've probably typed the backstory into this
thing ten times now, but here it is again.
We went out once. And I don't mean that we used to date, I
mean we went out a grand total of one time. The problem was
not something between the two of us, but rather her family's
stance on matters; simply put, they wouldn't approve. A bit
disappointing, yes, but what are you gonna do, eh? Rather
than be all distressed, or pull any sneaky jive, we decided
we'd keep in touch, and if things changed, then we'd look at
where we were and make a decision from there. All was well
and good, we even corresponded a little after school ended.
Then the summer goes by, she's taking a long trip with her
family, and I'm flipping out getting ready for college. I
don't hear from her the whole summer, nor any time after her
scheduled return, and I'm getting a little freaked out. It
was keeping me up at night, wondering what happened, if she
received any of my e-mails, wondering how she's doing.
Time passes, and I finally give up and move on. No success
with the womenfolk at college, but who cares, I don't expect
much out of life anyway. Then, over winter break, I see my
friend from the window of a moving car, and everything that
was repressed comes rushing right back and hits me square in
the face. Now what the hell do I do?
After I get back to college, I finally get the balls to send
her an e-mail, and I receive no reply. So I call her, and I
find out that she wasn't mad at me, just busy and severely
bogged down with coursework and stuff. So we decide to meet
for dinner during the one night that our spring breaks will
overlap. For about two weeks, I'm fucking ecstatic.
Then we meet up, and I get the bombshell: she's seeing some
guy at her college. At that moment, I just fell apart. Her
parents still held their same views on her dating, but as it
seems, this guy was worth going against their wishes, and I
evidently wasn't. Real blow to the old self-worth.
Over the next few weeks, I just lose it. I start drinking,
I'm having problems with my classes, I'm not getting enough
sleep, and my eating habits turn to shit. I can't deal with
anything, and it's all because of some girl.
It really bugged the shit out of me. What about the time we
spent getting to know each other? What about our decision
to keep in touch and see what happened? We were going to go
to the Prom together if her parents would allow it. That's
the Senior Prom, the event that I find more offensive than
any other little bit of high school social bullshit, and I'm
wanting to go if I can go with her. The one date we went on
was to a classical guitar recital. One of the greatest and
most versatile instruments in the Western world, and I just
wanted to share it with her. Didn't all that mean anything?
But I guess not. After I talked to my dad about it, and at
least managed to get my emotions under control, though not
resolved by any means, I sent my friend an e-mail, checking
to see how she was doing and what was going on in her life.
That was over three weeks ago, and I haven't heard back from
her as of yet.
So yeah, I'm plenty disappointed with what went on. But the
problem isn't just that whatever we had didn't seem to mean
much to her, but also that she's the only person I've ever
had that sort of relationship with. When I got out of high
school, she was the only girl I'd ever been out with or even
really been friends with. Maybe we couldn't get together,
but one way or another, the whole thing was a very positive
experience, and I learned something about people and about
myself. I felt like a worthwhile human being; after all, if
someone like her would give me a chance, I guess I must be
doing something right.
And now that's all gone. Everything I thought was good and
desirable about me has all just vanished. I can't believe I
didn't see it for the illusion it all was. I guess I wanted
to be with her and wanted things to work out, so much that I
couldn't see the sand behind the mirage.
And that's what I've thought about every night and every day
for months. I lie awake at night, trying to figure out what
went wrong, and feeling like such a fool. And I am a fool,
because for all she's put me through, I wouldn't hesitate to
welcome her back into my life. I may not want to admit this
to anyone, or even to myself, but I know it's true.
Steve Winwood's lyric is out of context here, but it's still
the best I've got for what I'm going through:
"Every night, every day, I keep feeling the same old way."
This is Dave, signing off.