*blank stare*
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2001-12-16 21:41:47 (UTC)

So Please Hand Me the Bottle, I Think I'm Lonely Now... and Please Give Me Direction, I Think I Just Caved In...

What a weekend. Unless you were there, you can't even
begin to fathom it... and I don't think many of the people
who WERE there can either.
Last night, I really learned for the first time the true
meaning of pain, and quite possibly, the true meaning of
friendship, and of love. But to avoid confusion, I'll start
with Friday.

Work on Friday was fine, aside from cutting a small
chunk off the side of my index finger with a razor blade
while cutting topping for Kim. I went to Smiley's
Restuarant for lunch with my co-workers for the first time,
and for the first time it felt like I was finally part of
the general friendly group that JSR's first shift consists
After work, I drove through an absolutely frightening
torrential downpour to go pick up Bob from the Fox Run
Mall. He was there with Picard, who had driven him, and
Jacob and Jon were also there, which was rather odd because
they had stopped over my house after I already left, they
fueled up, drove the speed limit and apparently took a long
way. And still they got there before me. Let's do the time
warp again...
Anyhow, they all wandered off to go bother Norty at
Suncoast Video and Bob and I went to (surprise!) Bickford's
for dinner/coffee spent some quality time being alone
together for the very first time. After Bick's we returned
here, crashed on my bed and for at least an hour, just
talked about nothing in particular. I loved it.
Eventually Jake left Jon's house and came over here, with
alternate motives that I wasn't to learn about until last
Thus, we cut to last night. Bob, Jake and I just kind of
crashed here for awhile, and eventually were joined by
Mike, Jon, and Kat. I knew there was something Jon wanted
to talk to me about, but he wanted to do it in privacy, and
conisdering what it was, I'm glad we did. We all sat around
here, listening to NIN in the living room until it was time
to head out to our regularly scheduled Bickford's.
Bob, Jacob, Steph and I got there roughly half an hour
late, and Brian came shortly thereafter, giving us a grand
total of SIXTEEN people. I mean holy shit- the only one who
wasn't there who should have been was Seth, who I think
went to Boston instead.
The group there consisted of Myself, Bob, Jacob, Mike,
Kat, Robin, Jess, Tony, Steph, Bithy, both Jons, both
Jasons, and both Brians. Tiff, Maria and Noah were supposed
to go as well, but declined due to the fact that Norty was
going to be there, which the asanine bastard was of course
proud of.
I got so much-needed pictures of everyone while there,
including a couple of wonderful group-shots the waitress
was kind enough to take for us.
After the group pictures, Jon came up to me with Mike at
his side and asked we could go outside and have our talk...
I agreed, and out we went into the bitter cold that soon
was to invade everything I ever held inside. I assume
everyone knows the details by now or will shortly enough,
but I'm not diclosing them here. Let's leave it at I did
something I shouldn't have, let something happen that
shouldn't have ever happened, and so did Jake. And what we
collectively succeeded in doing was ruining the life of a
timid, sweet girl who never did anything to either of us to
deserve what we gave her.
Jon asked me a question, and I told him the truth, as I am
not, by nature, a liar when it comes to anything even
remotely like this. I told him the truth and to my dying
day I will never forget the look in his eyes, the burning
hatred I saw there. I was completely numb with previously
unshown shame and guilt at what I had done, and I could
feel how Jon was feeling about me because of it. I didn't
try to defend myself, since I had no place doing that.
Everything he said to me I deserved, and more. He told me
that Julia (aforementioned wonderfully pleasant girl, also
Jake's now ex- girlfriend) was over his house on Friday
night, sobbing on him and saying she wanted to kill
herself. Hearing him say that made me feel so sick inside,
because Julia is the only victim here, and she isn't the
one who deserves to die, I am.
Then Jon looked me square in the eyes and said he
hoped I enjoyed what happened, that it was worth losing two
friends over- and I did die. All of a sudden it wasn't cold
outside, and my cigarette was left burning, forgotten, in
my hand as everything in the world fell away from me. All I
could do was keep looking at him as if mesmerized, and I
might have stood there forever, a statue of my former self,
had Kat not popped her head out the door to tell us it was
time to pay up and head out.
I pitched my smoke and practically ran inside, heading
not for the dining room but the bathroom, where I entered
the first empty stall, locked the door, and began wailing
so loud the echoes hurt my ears.
Kat came in after me, and after a few moments I opened
the door and she came in, followed by Steph moments later,
and I sobbed and ranted and raved on both of them. Bless
those girls- I love them SO much, and they both forgave me
right there, telling me that they'd still stick by me no
matter what. At this point, however, I knew I was bane,
poision for anyone who came in contact with me, and as much
as I love them and everyone who was there, I wanted all of
them to go away and just leave me crying on the bathroom
floor where I belonged forever so they could run away and
never have to deal with what I give ever again. I decided
then and there I was going to pack up, take Tiff and Bob
and head for Florida after all.
As much as I was terrified of having to go back in there
and face all of them, I had to. I walked in with my head
down, looking at no one but knowing everyone was staring at
"They all know, and they all hate me," I thought, and
grabbed up my things as quickly as I could and tried to run
away from everyone I couldn't bring myself to look in the
face anymore. Bob, however, knew something was wrong of
course and followed me out hot on my heels. I shoved open
the door and went outside as fast as I could and began
walking for some reason in the opposite direction of my
Of course, he caught up with me in a flash (damn my bad
knee) and took my hand, asking in a desperate voice what
was wrong. We ended up back in the space between the two
sets of doors to the restaraunt before I could say
anything, and he was perfectly bewildered when I proceeded
to put my arms around him, lower my face to his chest and
burst into tears.
I told him what had happened, what had been said, explained
the whole situation because I couldn't tell him anything
without telling him everything. I couldn't look him in the
face either, and the only times I did were because he would
turn my face to his and tell me to open my eyes in such a
tone of voice that I couldn't disobey. I told him, still
crying, that I was going to Florida, and he pleaded with me
not to, sounding like he was going to cry, which of course
would have been my fault as well. I told him to come with
us, and he said he couldn't, but that he wasn't going to
let me go either. Then he looked me right in the eyes and
told me he was going to fix things, to make it all right
I didn't think any of it would ever be all right again,
knowing I had lost Jon and Mike and figuring as soon as
Jake found out I had told them the truth, I would lose him
too. Three of the most important people in my life, who I
love more than I could ever dream of even attempting to
express, gone in a whisper because of my stupidity. I
wasn't sure if I was going to go to Picard's as was planned
or if I was just going to go home, but Bob swore he wasn't
leaving my side until everything was resolved, and I didn't
want to keep him from having a good time just because I was
a shivering emotional wreck on the verge of, if not having,
a nervous breakdown. And, I can honestly say that at that
point, I had decided that no matter whose house I walked
into that night, I wouldn't walk out of. I also opted for
Picard's house because I thought it might be easier to end
my miserable excuse for a life if I were drunk.
Well, obviously, I didn't die.
And, actually, I didn't even try. As soon as we got to
Picard's place, I went into the downstairs bathroom with my
purse and proceeded to make use of my hunting knife on my
stomach. There was a lock on the door, but I didn't see it.
Go figure.
So of course Bob came in, and I didn't have time to do
anything more than childishly hide my knife behind my back.
I handed it over to him when he asked what I had, and he
grabbed my arms and turned them over to check my wrists,
which had there been a lock on the door, I'm sure I would
have gotten to after my stomach. On Friday night he had
seen old scars on my stomach, so of course he checked that
too, only to find it still dripping blood from many various
He cleaned my cuts up, and I kept apologizing the whole
time, feeling even more ashamed of myself, impossible as it
seemed for that to happen before it actually did. It seems
like everyone I care about, I hurt. But I explained to him
why I did it- when I suffer from emotional pain, if I make
myself feel physical pain, it's not so bad inside- it's
like some of it runs out with my blood. But if I keep it
all emotional, I will kill myself. I told him between the
two, I figured he'd rather have me alive and slightly
wounded than a corpse in mint condition.
We wandered back into the living room, where Brian had left
2 cases of Smirnoff's, some Carona's, Budwiesers, and
Mike's Hard Lemonades. After one Smirnoff I felt sick,
probably due to the fact that it was mixing with maple
syrup, straight creamers, coffee, and emotional
distraughtness. So I went into Picard's room, which Bob and
I had dibs on for the night anyway, I lay down. Bob came in
shortly thereafter, and told me that he had talked to Jake
and Jon and they both wanted to talk to me.
And so in came Jake, and I felt much better after he and I
talked, because I knew at least one of them didn't depspise
me for what had happened, although it was his fault too.
But he told me he was trying to take all the blame, and I
told him that for one, we should both get half of it, and
two, he shouldn't bother because if anything, Jon and Mike
would probably rather place all of it on me and cast me off
because they're brothers to Jake and I'm not even sure if
they like me half the time, so I'm expendable and he isn't.
After we were done talking, we hugged and that felt so
reassuring, at least as far as one of my concerns went. I
got up and followed him out, taking some more pictures and
having another drink. Then Jon, who was seemed to be quite
happily blizted by then, collected me and we went back into
Picard's room to talk.
And oh boy, did we talk.
As in, like 4 hours worth of talk.
We ended up going to Picard's mom's room, because his
sister came in to the room we were in. After a while in
there, Picard kicked us out and we spent a good portion of
the time on the upstairs bathroom floor, talking about a
lot of things that, while they had hardly anything to do
with the situation, I am still not putting in here or
telling a soul. Jon told me that I'm the first and only
person he's ever said any of it to, and that means an awful
lot to me. I will say this: the fact that for 20 years he
has held in what he finally told me last night/ this
morning shows unbelievable strength and fortitude... but
how long did Atlas hold the weight of the world on his
shoulders before he got tired?
We got kicked out of the upstairs bathroom by Picard's
sister, and went back downstairs. Butland and I went out
for a smoke (I thought I would never be alone with him ever
again, but I didn't even feel funny about it, so I guess
that curtain on that drama is closed, at least) and after I
went back in, Jon asked if I was planning on going to bed
soon, and I wasn't tired so I said no. He wanted to talk
again, so this time we crashed in the downstairs bathroom.
I swear, if anyone else knew how he feels, what he has to
go through every waking moment of his life... the entire
human race would be crying for him, just as I was. With the
moronic, simplistic lifestyle I am happy in, I never -
really- looked at him, into him... I never really saw. It
doesn't matter that no one else did, either. But he hides
it well.
After awhile, I went out to get some coffee, intending to
stay up all night with him, and upon peeking into Picard's
room, saw that Bob wasn't there. I went out to the living
room and found him sitting between Butland and Jacob's
inebriated bodies, drinking coffee and staring at the
floor. I knew immediately, of course, that something wasn't
I asked him what was wrong, and he told me nothing was
and to go talk to Jon again in a tone of voice he has never
used with me before. Of course, I couldn't leave it at that
so I followed him out to the kitchen and then back to the
living room, telling him I wasn't leaving his side until he
told me what was wrong. I thought he might be upset because
I was spending so much time with Jon and hardly any with
him, but that definately wasn't it. Finally he told me...
Apparently he had fallen asleep on Picard's bed, and he had
a dream that was horridly realistic, especially for how the
night was going and what he had seen previously- me with a
knife in my hand.
Anyway, in his dream he awoke on Picard's bed because he
heard everyone screaming out in the living room and kitchen
and so he got up and went out to see what was the matter...
and I had found my knife, which he had Picard hide, and I
was dead.
It was at this point the clock bonged and woke him up.
When he told me this I had no idea what to say- we were
sitting on the stairs then, and I just kneeled on one of
them and threw my arms around him while he held me tightly.
What made it worse was he had this dream while I was
talking to Jon upstairs, so when he woke up and went out to
find me, I wasn't there and for some reason no one would
answer him directly when he asked everyone. He was
terrified, and I don't blame him at all. If positions had
been reversed, I would have been threatening to kill
everyone if no one told me where he was, and I would have
dashed around screaming for him as loudly as possible. He
kept apologizing for over-reacting, which I found quite
silly since I had a nervous breakdown perhaps 6 hours
before that.
After he went back into Picard's room to attempt sleeping
again, I covered Jon with my wool trench coat and gave Jake
my pillow and covered him as well. That guy was so gone, I
had to lift his head for him and slide the pillow under it.
It felt like a goddamn bowling ball. Pot Booze= Unconsious
Jacob. I stayed in there until Jon fell asleep and then
went in to Picard's room, where there was Picard at his PC,
Bob in the bed, and a blanket on the chair that turned out
to be Brian.
I crashed on the bed with Bob, obviously, and it was so wonderful
to lie there, warm and safe, with his arms around me, knowing that I
was protected and loved. I don't think anyone has ever loved me as
much as he does. It absolutely astounds me to think about it.
Whenever I need anyone for the smallest thing, he is there. He tells
me he loves me at least every 10 mintues, usually more, and what
matters even more is I can see it in his eyes. I love him so very
much, and I would do anything for him just as he would for me. If I
weren't for him, I would more than likely be dead or hospitalized or
missing right now. But I can't hurt him because I love him too much
and he cares about me so. He's the one who helped fix everything- he
talked to Jon and to Jake, and suddenly things got better. Even if
they're not perfect, he sure as hell saved me, either way.
I love you, Bob.
Finally, around 7 or so, I finally got to sleep,
whereupon Bob proceeded to poke me awake and say good
morning. I mumbled and got a blissful 3 hrs of sleep. Some
popcorn and a Final Fantasy demo later, Jon and I were on
our way out.
What a ride that was... silence all the way from Picard's
driveway to his. Nothing but Matchbox 20 all the way to his
place. Before he got out of the van we talked a little, but
he didn't seem to have much to say anymore. And now, a few
hours after that, here I sit. I am off to seek food and
sleep, cause last night/this morning was way the fuck too
long and too strange and disturbing to manage on 3 hours of
sleep. Peace.

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