Well…Here’s the obligatory birthday post. Let’s start this off with what happened on this uneventful day. I was sick. I took a train to Mito, while sick. I walked to Trust School, while sick. I then walked to the immigration office, while sick. I stood in line for an hour, while sick. I got my Visa, while sick. Walked back to Trust School, while sick. Startled Atsuko, while sick. Walked to the train station, while sick. Was flirted at by a high school girl (*shudder*), while sick. Rode the train home, while sick. And…walked home in the cold…all while sick. That was my birthday. Seriously.
Now, on to the tradition. In an old journal, I used to cover the past year on every birthday. I’ve decided to start that up again. Be warned. This is REALLY long and full of explanations, apologies, or thanks that I’m too much of a punk to say in person. It contains all of the important events of the year, explained in excruciating detail, and with backstory! So, don’t read it and get pissed off at the length. This is written for me, and anyone who wants to know what lies behind some closed doors with me. Be warned…this post will make me sound girl-obsessed and drunk, but hey…it was a time of follies for me, really.
I never thought I’d grow this much in one year, but as I look back on October 10th, 2005, it seems like I’ve traveled so very far…emotionally, psychologically, spiritually…geographically… The year started off on a strange note—it was this day that I made two decisions: One was to switch to dreadlocks. The second was to gain 20 lbs of muscle by the end of May 2006. I wanted to use both of these as complete shockers at my good friend Jen’s wedding. Little did I know what would come to me during those processes.
I announced my intentions to Matt Shannon and Melanie Shirk, two individuals with which I am permanently intertwined in both good and bad ways. Matt is my friend of six years. Melanie is the girl who, if you water the story down a bit, nearly drove Matt and me to blows. But the story doesn’t go quite how it sounds, trust me. We all met for dinner in December. This was the first time the three of us had been assembled in over a year. Matt and I had grown past whatever had occurred in the previous year of suck (for the most part), but there was a slight weirdness to it. I was apparently full of a new kind of energy, according to Melanie, because I’d broken through the shackles of “Depresso Dave”, the rather frightening individual who was plagued by failures galore—educational, spiritual, romantic, and financial. I say he’s still lingering a bit.
The dinner went well, and I don’t know if either of them noticed my hesitance to sit next to either of them, or my discomfort when I sat next to Melanie, or the way I shifted my chair away from her to sit, ultimately, at the corner of the table, with Melanie and Matt sitting across from each other. You see, I had reached an understanding with Matt. I was never truly mad at him anyway. Oh, sure, my tongue had slipped several times, but…really, all tied to other stuff. Melanie however, was, at the time, the source of all my misogyny. As far as I knew, she followed a philosophy that more or less spat in the face of every hardship I’d faced in the romantic world, and to think that, even though it was during a time of outright craziness, I’d briefly fancied the girl…made my blood boil to say the least. But, I still enjoyed her spirit. She was and is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Yes, I was Melanie’s friend and enemy at the same time, which was just…hard. Fortunately, I had Matt there. Odd…because this situation was the reverse of the previous year. You’ll notice I’m focusing on this moment in time. That’s because it’s pretty much the resolution of my 23rd year of existence.
Eventually, we all parted ways, but Matt and I lingered to goof off some more. Seamus and Jamal weren’t quite back in full effect, but…we were at least on laughing terms again.
A little earlier, in November, I’d been introduced to two girls who almost broke through the misogyny caused by Melanie and…another girl. These two new girls were almost the exact opposite of everything I looked for. I mean, come on, first and foremost, they were blondes. I don’t like blondes. The heck is that? But, they had amazing personalities. The tall one…I…kinda…sorta…dated. Not really. Not at all. We went to the beach…I…y…whatever. The other is like, 5’4”, and, well, she’s just flirty, so I knew I’d never end up dating the girl, but she and I were quite the pair when it came to humor and witty banter. But it was always more of a friend thing than anything. Unfortunately, just as I’d begun to hang out with the tall one, I had one of those “23-year-old-male” moments, and disappeared for a few weeks. This was at the end of 2005. People began to wonder what had happened to me, why I was staying to myself, and why, the few times I HAD been seen, I was always wearing hats.
The dreadlock times had begun and the workout plan had hit full fury. I’d found a new workout partner, David, who worked at Full Sail, AND lived in my apartment building, and together, we were workin’ hard toward our goals. Me? I was burning off angst and misogyny. Dave? Well, he’s just a really nice guy who wanted to look good. He’d talk to me about girls, and I’d try my best to respond without sounding too bitter, but…all that ended up happening was I’d say, “Yeah…don’t ask about that,” WAY too often. Dave eventually began to make some well placed jokes about it.
Full Sail had become my home. I’d joke around with Lionel, whose humor, gripes, fears and life experiences were frighteningly close to mine…though he was a lot cornier. He’s married though, so it’s allowed. Couldn’t keep up with my quick wit though. Musta been the age thing. I also talked with Matt (Lovell) and John, with whom I got into several interesting conversations. They…tended to let me speak freely without fearing the age issue, which was a huge help for me. John was my literary and grammatical guide, in a sense, and Matt and I joked about the world we knew. Chad, the guy who’d been hired with me, was someone I didn’t get to work with as often as I wanted to, but, man…he’s great with the stealth wit. Buuuuuut…I’m not gonna describe everyone. I had just settled in, really, and was enjoying driving The Short One (Nikki) insane. They enjoyed making fun of the fact that I was bringing in milk-gallons of water everyday. Lionel would laugh when he saw my dinners for the evenings, and…I was getting results, though only someone who was really watching me would notice.
In Feb., after I’d returned from Boston, Matt calls me saying, “Yo, Dave…I’m looking into moving to Japan. You interested? Contact this dude.” At the time, I was quite happy with my situation, and didn’t follow the Matt Shannon philosophy of “Run! Always run! Never…stop…moving!” Of course, this time, I had no clue WHY he was running, but that didn’t matter, I was happy. Plus, it was Matt. We’re talking about a guy who always talks about new ideas, just to distract you from what he’s really doing. Who thought he’d actually be straightforward this time? Nevertheless, I talked to Lionel about it, briefly.
“I’m tellin’ you, man…it’s the same thing, no matter what. You’ll be teaching kids.”
“Nah…this job’s different, I know.”
“How?” This is where Lionel gets that face and voice where…he doesn’t intend to seem like he’s mocking you, but it just kinda happens. How do I know this? Because I have the same face and voice.
“Wh…I just…I know.”
“Uh-huh.”
And that was that.
Four weeks later, Matt’s going away party was held…thrown. Now, this party had some SUPER weirdness in it. Considering that Matt and I had hung out four times in the last year, it was hard for me to just show up like I was still part of the close circle. Though, maybe I was. On top of that, I saw his parents for the first time in 18 months. These are the folks who would be happy if I randomly swung by their house, and I would gladly do it. Since the great S&J implosion, I know I’d never be able to quite look them in the eye without immediately spewing apologies and explanations between sobs, “I swear, I ain’t really like that girl! I ain’t mean them thangs I said! I was crazy, dang it! CRAAAAAZY!” But, they seemed happy to see me. Mr. Shannon, as usual, bestowed far too many compliments on me, and Mrs. Shannon, well…she’s just always too kind.
“Oh, Dave…look at you.”
“Look at ‘im, Mom! He’s got shoulders now!” said Matt, grinning stupidly.
“No jacket?” said Mr. Shannon, talking about the original Blue Jacket. I call her Blue.
I smiled. “Not today, sir. And I think I’ve figured out a way to keep it away from me for a long time.”
He quirked an eyebrow, and I just smirked toward my friend Charlotte…who we’ll talk about later.
Then there was Kirsten. I’m not gonna go too far into how Kirsten plays into Matt’s life, mostly because I don’t know a dern thing, but…suffice it to say, she’s very important. The last time I’d seen Kirsten, was five years prior, during my freshman year in college. This was a girl who made Matt smirk in ways I’d never seen him smirk before. She was also a girl who managed to make “Wild Wild West” one of the best movies I’d ever seen. I still don’t know how she did that, but that alone locked her into my memory. And then…there’s the one soundbyte from her that is forever locked in my head.
“Oh, no…never David. He’s puuuuuuuuuuuure.”
I forget the context. All I know is that, though she was joking, she did strengthen my will power at the time. Heh…she didn’t even remember, though. Kirsten was different at this party. It was quite odd talking to her, though. She’d changed, and even though I didn’t remember much about her, I could feel that. And at that party, she and I were the ones left out. So…we kinda…kept returning to each other. Hey, at least we had SOME link in the past.
Which brings me to the third weird point—this was the world Matt had built in my absence. This was the “aftermath” of the dissolving of Seamus and Jamal. The humor was foreign, almost brutal. The people walked with a rhythm I couldn’t follow. I mean, my essential replacement was there. Big ol’, 6’7” white dude named Mike. I laughed but was somewhat weirded out the whole evening. Fortunately, I knew that this wasn’t my party, it was Matt’s. So, I joked around with some folks, embarrassed Laurel, sat quietly with Charlotte, gave Mrs. Shannon a bit of an explanation for my actions over the last 2 years, and…relaxed. Suddenly, I heard,
“DAVE.”
I ran into the kitchen and found Mr. Shannon standing over Matt, who was looking rather strangely into the box I’d brought for him. He’d found the first of my gifts to him: Blue.
“Dave, I…”
“Eh…I figured you could take her to Japan with you. I don’t need her anymore.”
“Y..”
“There’s more…”
I’d included my “Jamal Uniform”, which consisted of Blue and a Blue Devils shirt that I wore…almost everyday of our freshman year. Also, I gave him some drawing materials, and a Fodor’s guide to Japan. Part of me felt that those were the right gifts to give my old friend who was leaving everything he knew behind. Still don’t really know why that was the ultimate decision, but…hey.
I was talking to a few people about leaving for Japan later in the year—particularly Kirsten. She and I seemed to be trying to convince each other that it was a good idea. Partly for our own futures, mostly because we…really didn’t want Matt to fly off somewhere and die…figuratively. Even my ex-roommate’s ex-girlfriend, Alex, seemed to think it was a wise decision for me, and thus…the seed was planted.
Later in the evening, Matt had to basically…bolt and catch his plane to Japan. There was one o’ them “eff-it-all” moments where we exchanged a big ol’ man hug, and…I helped him grab a few more belongings and headed outside to his car. I was determined to see the kid until the very end.
Once we’d put the last few boxes into his car, he hugged Alex, and we just kinda stood there, awkwardly.
“Take care of Blue for me, alright?”
“…That’s quite a task, but…alright.”
I just laughed and watched him get in the car and close the door. Then…
“…What am I doing?!”
“Exactly what you need to. Now GO!” And off they drove.
I waved one last time, and looked back at the house where the part was held. Again, I thought about the fact that this was the world that Matt built. And he had the guts to leave it all behind. That was something I’d wanted to do for a while. My own shortcomings and hang ups had written me into a corner, and I needed some way to get away, but, at that moment, instead of wanting to leave, a new idea popped into my head.
“He’s gone, so now…I have to hold things down here. I have to rebuild this whole mess I’ve made for myself. Yeah…”
Totally wasn’t gonna happen.
I e-mailed my parents about the Japan plans, and, to my surprise, they were calm. But I knew my mother was probably freaking out over the whole issue. But, eventually, I went home, and my mother said nothing. My father only asked me one question: “Do you want to do this?” When I replied, “Yes,” he just nodded. VERY different reaction than what I expected. Something wasn’t right. I knew it. Something just wasn’t right. But, I returned to Orlando without finding out just what that something was.
The next few weeks were my slack off times, regarding the workout schedule. I was on a shift that just didn’t cater to my efforts, plus, I’d met my “appearance” goal far earlier than I’d expected. But, in my mind, things were rather turbulent. I was stuck between wanting to go to Japan, and wondering if it was just a silly passing fancy. Oh yeah…run off to Japan. That’s awesome. Like you’d ever do something like that. The harder thing to balance was the fact that Matt was actually putting forth effort to make my voyage to Japan easier, and, if y’all didn’t know, in the past I’d somehow managed to totally ignore one of his attempts at helping me land a computer animation job. To this day, I don’t remember how that happened, and that fact irked me to no end. So, when Matt was making yet another effort to help me out, there was a serious mental conflict.
“Obviously, you gotta go. I mean, you can’t screw up again. But do you want to go?”
“Of course, I do. This country has issues that I’m tired of dealing with.”
“Uh huh.”
“Plus the only way for me to break this rut and cancel out my own control issues is to place myself in a situation where I’m totally out of control.”
“Step out on your own?”
“Yeah.”
“By following Matt?”
“Y…wait.”
“You’ll just be following, when you think about it.”
“But I want to go.”
“Really?”
“YES.”
“You sure you’re not just running away from your issues here? You do realize that it doesn’t matter where you are…they’ll follow you.”
“I know that.”
“On top of that…do you remember what happened last year? And do you know that depression is part of the culture shock cycle? Can you imagine what’s gonna happen to you if you go to Japan? Isn’t your greatest and only fear now…the fear of going back to that state of mind? You might not survive it!”
“...I’ve fought it once, I can do it again.”
“Really?”
“…Yeah…I think.”
I wasn’t in good shape that month, obviously. On top of that, a very important event was coming up. Jen’s wedding. Before I knew it, May had shown up, I’d gladly stopped wearing hats all the time, and finally let my dreadlocks fly free. I was nearing the end of my workout, and was quite happy with the results, but…I wasn’t as happy as I’d expected to be. The Japan issue was weighing heavily on my mind. And around mid May, I go an urgent e-mail from Mr. Shannon, Matt’s father. “Dave, please call. I need to talk to you about something.”
Now…this part of the story is something I write with great hesitation, because it does not just involve my experiences, but is closely tied to Matt’s as well.
Mr. Shannon has a tendency to call me or talk to me from time to time…and hold me in a far higher regard than I’m worth. This was one of his crazier moments, but it seemed to work.
“So, Dave…Matt really thinks you’re coming to Japan.”
“I am. I mean…I want to.”
“Okay…well, God bless you for that, but, really…you’ve been reading Matt’s e-mails. It’s not the easiest experience in the world. And you know you’ll have a VERY different experience than he will…bein’ the black man that you are.”
“I know. But…something tells me I need to go.”
“Why Dave? What’s the difference between bein’ a black man in America, and bein’ a black man in Japan?”
“…That’s exactly what I want to find out.”
“…And God bless you for it…really. Alright then.”
From there the conversation meandered, as conversations with Mr. Shannon always do, but through that conversation, we managed to get onto the topic of my own hardships with race and relationships, and then Matt’s hardships with his trip to Japan and relationships, and it was here that Mr. Shannon and I ran into something that…I wasn’t sure if either of us was really ready to talk about.
“And then there’s Melanie,” he said. “Oh, Matt really liked her. And from what I hear, so did you.”
I balked. “Ehhhhh…not…quite…like you might think….”
“So then…what happened?”
“You…sure you want to know?”
“Dave…just talk.”
“Alright…well…Matt—“
“I know what happened with Matt. I want to know what happened to you.”
“…Okay…well…you know I was going crazy during those days.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Really? Well…okay, so I was going crazy. A lot of issues with family, isolation, religion, education, finances…everything was going bad at once. My cynicism had gotten really, really bad, and I didn’t trust anyone. Earlier, before things went to total garbage, I met Melanie through a mutual friend. My old roommate actually. Wasn’t much to my friendship with her. We just talked from time to time. Then…she disappeared, as did I. When she returned she was different. This was just when things started going really badly for me, but when she came back, a really stupid idea came into my head. I think we both can admit that I’m one of the most closed off, masked people ever.”
“Yeah, ya know, maybe….”
“Well, I made a decision. I wanted to end all the turmoil in my mind, and to do that, I had to do something extreme. I was going to have to trust someone else. I was going to have to open up…and the person that seemed to be able to handle it was…Melanie.”
“…Alright.”
“So, she was basically a personal therapist. It was selfish, I know. And I warned her about what might happen. I said that I might end up hating her, or I might end up really liking her way too much, simply because of the connection that was going to be made, and if that happened, it was time for me to disappear again. Yeah….that was extremely selfish, but she went along with it. Right around this time was when Matt started realizing he liked her. Which…heh, lemme tell you, that resulted in some SERIOUS issues. Because…we were competing for her time, but not for the reasons we thought. If I hung out with Melanie one night, Matt would think I was trying to date her, and I’m sure that screwed with his head, since I was once his best friend. But, if Matt would take her out one night, my brain was so messed up that all I saw was someone intentionally standing in the way of my healing process, and that pissed me off to no end.”
“And Mel was caught in the middle.”
“Whoo…was she ever. And she made the mistake of communicating with both of us about each other. On top of that, Matt and I were both dealing with our own issues. And if you place two people with problems in a confined area…their problems amplify each other. So, our two little storms of angst and woe became this hurricane of…yuck. Which…was perfectly symbolized by the hurricane season that year.”
“Ya know…I knew that, but…I like the way you put it better.”
“Heh, well…truth of the matter was that I never had any real problems with Matt…it was just a bad time. But…we’re talking about Mel. So, later on, round the end of August 2004, the dam broke. I’d been holding back the ‘result’ of my experiment for a very long time, because I knew it was just a psychological thing. I didn’t really like Melanie, it was just the fact that my inner problems were starved for attention and the fact that she actually listened to me that were…pulling me towards her more and more often. If it had been anyone else who was listening, the result would’ve been the same. But one day at the end of August, I forgot that…and totally thought I was falling for Mel. At the time, there was another girl on my mind, but Mel managed to overwrite that…and that was when I knew it had gone too far. But the damage had been done. So, I knew it was time to back off. I needed to be away from all of it. I realized I was totally screwing things up for everyone. So…that’s when I told Matt I was moving out of the house.”
Is this exactly how the conversation went? No, but I guarantee, that’s really frickin’ close. I was kind enough to Mr. Shannon to leave out what happened afterward, where my “feelings” for Mel transformed into total mistrust and misogyny. And, though you might not want to read it, oh…we’re comin’ back to it later. Because eventually, I came to terms with the truth. And that took some effort.
But maybe you’re wondering who this “other girl” is. Maybe. That’s funny, because the day after my conversation with Mr. Shannon, that very girl called me.
“Dah-veeeeeed!” This was, and is, her pet name for me. “I’m inviting all the old Lake Claire RAs to my parents’ house in Leesburg. We’ll go out on the lake it their boat and just relax. You wanna come?”
“…Maybe,” was my response. My guard was up. I would never show any emotion around this girl again. Never.
“Okay, well…Jen’s coming too, because she wants to see all of us before her wedding.”
I sighed. “Alright…if Jen’s there, I’ll be there.” My relationship with Jen is a special one, so I try my absolute best NEVER to miss an opportunity to see her. (Note: Take this time to remember…JEN is the one getting married. J-E-N. Seriously…you’ll need it.)
But, one week before Jen’s wedding, I found myself driving Jen, Bree, and our friend Graham to Leesburg, listening to Gnarls Barkley and Prince, and me trying my best to remind myself to at least seem cheerful. Hardest thing in the world for me.
“Look at you…you’ve grown up,” said Jen.
“What?” I asked.
“You set out on this goal, and now…you’re all muscley and dreaded. I’m proud of you.”
I just smiled.
“And you’re going to JAPAN!!!”
Cough. “Yeah…yeah…”
Eventually, we arrived at the house, and “she” opened the door. I lingered in the back as she hugged those who had just arrived, but eventually, it was my turn.
There she was—Jenny. The girl who had been an essential part of my depression, and was actually the last thing that kept me from falling apart. When she left Orlando for Tampa, that was the end of it. I remember thinking I had a chance with Jenny. In fact, I know I did at one point. But, by the time I realized that, my brain was completely screwed up. I couldn’t even form sentences properly without some completely depressing thing flying out of my mouth. Melanie was actually helping me out with the Jenny situation before things got ugly. I knew that until I could get my brain back to normal, there was no reason for me to even try talking to Jenny, and…Melanie wanted to help. To be honest, I think that was why I tried so hard with Melanie. Jenny really meant a lot to me, and if talking to Melanie was going to fix me? Well, shoot, I was gonna go for the gusto. But when I suddenly began holding Melanie and Jenny on the same level…. I can’t begin to describe the confusion that caused. I remember my final decision in that situation. Again, it was extreme.
“Go for both of them. It’s driving you insane. You know you’re too screwed up to actually make it anywhere with either of them, so maybe if you burn both bridges at once, you can gain some semblance of sanity again. Or…if you’re lucky, you’ll end up with one of them, and suddenly, you’ll feel a thousand times better.”
Oh…oh, that is PROOF that I was not in my right mind. Aaagh. Needless to say, bridges were burned. Sanity returned…but in the initial form of burning, all-consuming misogyny. …Dah well!
The day on the boat was fun. Read that again. The day on the boat…was fun. The boat. Fun. If you didn’t know…I HATE boats. I have (had) a very strong fear of water. But somehow…out on that boat…I was just fine. My only conclusion was that the year of wailing and gnashing of teeth that was 2004 burned all irrational fear out of me (though I used my fear of water as an excuse to get out of a canoe trip earlier), because the water meant nothing to me. Shoot, I almost jumped off the boat for a laugh. Had I not had dreadlocks…it would’ve happened. And…even after consuming a few alcoholic beverages, I felt absolutely nothing for Jenny. I searched my mind relentlessly to make sure I wasn’t just holding something back and found nothing. Part of me was saddened, because I remembered that old feeling I got from being around her. It was something I hadn’t felt since…7 years prior. A very rare condition where my heart is actually willing to feel something besides…yuck. I began to wonder if it would ever happen again. Even the two blondes I’d become interested was…by force. “You can’t stay closed off forever. Maybe someone can jumpstart it.” No. No, they really can’t. I learned that lesson from Melanie, but I’ll probably keep trying again and again, until I can break through my own walls. But we’re talking about years and years of repeatedly being taught that you can’t trust anyone, not friends, not family, no one. ...That’s gonna take a long, long time to just break through.
One week later came Jen’s wedding. This was a very strange moment, since she was the first of my friends to get married. But, most of the old Lake Claire crew showed up, and all seemed quite shocked by my progress. It was really good to see them, honestly. A large part of my depression came from the fact that this group of people, Lake Claire Resident Assistants, were some of the closest friends I’ve ever had—they’re actually included in the world of Seamus and Jamal—but in one month…they all left me on m own at Lake Claire. Poor Matt was left to deal with my haggard soul after that. Anyway, seeing this group together again made me very, very happy, but…it still wasn’t what it used to be. That was sad as well. I’d grown past my dependency on the unity of Lake Claire, and, though liberating, it resulted in lukewarm emotions, which is pretty much an excellent description of my emotional spectrum…when I’m not going insane.
But, Jen got married, and…I went home, now faced with a scary, scary task. Japan. Matt told me that he’d have things squared away for me by the end of June. That was perfect timing to make sure I’d be able to give my boss at Full Sail proper notice, because, honestly, the last thing I wanted to do was screw over this new group of people who reminded me so much of Lake Claire. But…the weeks went by. Even without knowing for sure what was going to happen, I announced at my family reunion that I was leaving for Japan in September. But, the end of June came around, and things were still uncertain. Shoot, I didn’t even have the funds to GET to Japan, and the ticket purchasing window was closing…. And thus, the whole situation changed.
This was the moment where I took control. It was no longer, “Going to Japan to make sure I don’t pass up another opportunity from Matt.” Nor was it, “Everything’s gonna fall apart here! I have to run!” I was leaving because I chose to. Because I wanted to. I had found my resolve…I don’t know where, really. But it…was completely new to me. I was breaking every rule that I’d built up to keep myself safe, and I was completely ignoring every last trait that made me the David Williams most people had come to know. It was…odd. I took a second job, delivering papers for USA Today, to pay for my plane ticket. I began studying Japanese in super overdrive. I was exhausted and determined, frustrated and dauntless. No one knows the struggle I went through every day at 3:30 am, waking up to deliver papers, and coming home to find no responses from Trust School, or Matt.
I grew exponentially in these times…particularly in one area—the Melanie issue. Back in May, I told my friend Pena, “I have to get past all this garbage, man. This misogyny ain’t healthy, and now, there’s only one source of it. Mel. I have to forgive her. I have to find the right answers about what happened between her and me…and then…maybe I’ll be free of all this.” I had even tried to visit her after Jen’s wedding, since she lived so close to where it was held, but that didn’t work. But…during my paper deliveries, I had a LOT of pondering time, and when it came to Melanie, I was reminded of a conversation I had with her over a year earlier, when Matt and I were…not quite so cool. We were sitting on the bumper of my car, outside of a Sonic Burger at 1 in the morning.
“Honestly, kid,” I said. “I look forward to when all this is said and done, and we’re friends again.”
“Really?” asked Mel.
“Yeah. I mean…come on, can you imagine how downright awesomely stupid that’ll be? Friendships always get stronger from fights that don’t destroy ‘em.”
“…What made you start thinking like this?”
“I heard a quote: ‘Never judge a person by who they are currently in your relationship. Try to remember who they’ve been throughout.’ Matt most definitely is not my antagonist. Yeah…it’ll be fun once all this is done.”
Mel giggled. “I’m glad to hear you talk like that.”
And there I was, at 4 in the morning, in the front of my car, realizing what my brain had managed to do over time. Unfortunately, I’d warped the situation to believe that…during Mel’s time as my therapist, she’d been using my anger at Matt to get information out of me, information about him to help her figure out whether or not she wanted to date him. And when I began to get along with Matt again, she’d toss in a few barbs to remind me. Or vent about something he did. I had actually had no chance with her, but…she was using me as a pawn to get to Matt. That’s what I had believed for a very, very long time. But then I remembered how many nights she put up with my overdramatic behind, with moments of SERIOUS awkwardness, and with no mention of Matt. And…how these nights outnumbered the Matt complaints. Mel…had actually just tried to help, and gotten caught in the middle of something terrible. And so, my misogyny disappeared…mostly. Nothing happens over night, people…come on!
But I kept growing in other ways as well. Few could understand how much it took for me to quit my job at Full Sail even though things were most definitely NOT certain (thought I told everyone things were fine). And only my mother could know how hard I was hit when my car window broke and cost me 450 dollars, or when my car battery died, or when…Trust School called me and said the only way they’d hire me was if I left two full weeks before the day Matt and I had planned for.
There are those moments where everything falls apart, right before you ultimately succeed. It’s weird when you reach those moments, because…everything seems muted. Everything you planned for just shatters, and there’s really nothing underneath. That void…is deafening. Some people give up. Some people say it’s fate, and walk away, happy that they tried. Some people say it’s a sign from God that you aren’t supposed to make it to that point. Once…I thought that very thing. Not this time, though. I think…that was one of those “throw caution to the wind” moments when it came to my beliefs. In my mind, I kept imagining myself trying to fly, and…God Himself kept hammering me back down to the earth. But…I told Him, quite honestly…and rather bluntly, that if He was going to stop me…He’d have to rip everything from me. I was going to Japan because I felt that I was supposed to be there, like He wanted me there, and any lame attempt at stopping me was only going to be seen as a test to make me stronger. If He didn’t want me to go…either I was gonna end up dead, or Japan would sink under the waves. And…after that…things went amazingly well. Trust School suddenly had a position that would start in September. Money worked out even better than I could have possibly imagined. Everything…was great.
And then tuberculosis hit. Oh…oh, good lord was I pissed off. I’d made it within one week of my goal, only to test positive for tuberculosis?! NEVER have I rushed to medical appointments with such purpose as I did in those days. And never has every symptom of a disease scared me so very much. Breathing problems, coughing…everything felt like God saying, “Don’t ever talk to me like that again.” All this crap came the day before my going away party.
That is probably the thing I remember the least. My mind was swimming and my chest was killing me. Jenny kept looking at me with worried eyes, because she was the only one who knew that I’d just tested positive. I still needed to move out a lot of my belongings from my apartment. I still needed to go see my grandmother in Tarpon Springs before I left. I still had to get my chest x-rayed. I…barely remember who was there. I remember a lot of rushed conversations, and…stuff. But…eventually, it ended, and everyone left, but…I was still stressed.
I drove to Tarpon Springs the next day, immediately after getting my chest x-rayed, and surprised my grandmother by showing up at her church. It was a heartwarming moment, but, the message that morning…was not one I’d necessarily agree with. Talking about how…if something is meant to be, God will make sure that things go your way. Kinda spits in the face of every journey ever taken, doesn’t it? But just as I’d finished my scoffing, the pastor called me to the front of the church. It was here that he actually, like…anointed me, and the whole church prayed over me to have a safe trip to Japan. This was one extremely confusing moment for me, because the message that morning was totally not something I believed, and yet, I wanted to believe so strongly in the fact that the oil this man put on my forehead, and the words he spoke so sincerely would instantly clear my chest problems, and make that X-ray come out negative. You know, like it did in the good ol’ Biblical days of partin’ seas and washin’ off leprosy. I did take a deep breath right after the prayer was done, to check, but…nope. Still painful. Dah well.
My last week at work was fun, with my boss buying my fried chicken for a going away party…lord. But that chicken was extra delicious because…the day before, I found out that my x-ray came out negative, despite my symptoms! And thus began the great moving out fiasco…
When you’re working two jobs, and running around like a mad man to get passports photocopied, degrees, birth certificates, chest x-rays, parties, farewells and sucker punches out of the way, you don’t have any time to actually move out of your apartment. So, my last two days in Orlando were spent frantically packing everything I could or throwing it away. Thanks Arden Villas for having the worlds smallest dumpster opening…EVER.
Four friends helped me in this task. Whiter Dave, Justin Williams, Laurel, and, the winner of the “David Really Didn’t Tell Her How Much He Appreciated Her Existence” award, Charlotte. Oh yes, this girl deserves her own section in this year in review, because she’s been around for more than I realized. Charlotte was, and is, like one of those characters that shows up randomly in a book. Oh, you can tell they’re gonna be important, but…you don’t know how until the VERY end. That’s Charlotte. She was around during the glorious Lake Claire days, Project L (if you want to know…ask someone else…really), the Fall of David Williams, the implosion of Seamus and Jamal, and lots of other events that I love giving dramatic titles. Charlotte…it’s really tough to describe just how key she’s been, because…she was unfortunately relegated to a role as my “little sister” in a sense, but…not really. I remembered helping her through a few hard times, and then being totally shocked at how similar our paths were. Everything I experienced, she was two steps behind me. When my friendships fell through, a few months later, the same thing happened to her. It…still amazes me, because I know she thought she was the one who learned from me, and that I was the one who helped her through tough times, but the truth was, without her I wouldn’t have learned anything. On top of that, she was there on that last day, helping me move things out, even though she had so very much to do that day. At the time my brain was too shattered to realize what she was doing, but…it hit me for a moment when she cut her finger while helping. All of this…all of this I just didn’t quite understand, not until my plane was leaving West Palm Beach, and I took a deep breath, feeling relief wash over me. I thought back on what I was leaving behind, what I’d left undone, and it made me laugh. I wondered if I’d actually manage to miss anyone, because, my heart’s waaay too closed off to let that happen—but then an image flashed in my mind.
I was standing in front of the entrance to my Arden Villas building, unlocking the door, and Charlotte lifted her hand up.
“Ow…” she said. There was blood oozing from a fresh cut.
I immediately sat bolt upright in my plane seat and tilted my head to look out the window, to the north, toward Orlando. No words came out of my mouth, but my brain said it.
“…I’ll miss Charlotte…”
Now THAT was a weird moment, believe me. Still working that one out, but…it revealed something to me. I tell folks that I never miss people, because…I don’t. It’s either because the walls I’ve built up are so thick, or because physical distance means nothing to me, or both. But I felt horrible for lacking that emotion in that moment. I felt horrible for feeling so isolated when I had so many good people around me that genuinely cared about me and my dreams. I felt horrible for telling them that I always felt alone, and that I felt like no one could understand, or even want to deal with me in my entirety. I felt horrible for always walking away from them, and then saying that they left me. I didn’t know what to think or feel, I couldn’t tell what parts of my emotional issues were nature, nurture, or self-constructed. I thought about how frustrating I must’ve been for everyone in my college days…where I first started making actual friends. And it all flashed back in my mind, until I was left with an image of the first real friend I had made in college, and quite possibly my entire life. That same fool kid who had an unusually happy grin on his face when he found out a black kid was his roommate. And imagine my surprise when I found that kid, six years later, in Tokyo International Airport looking exactly like he did the first day I met him: Polo shirt, khaki shorts, and a goofy look on his face that said, “I won!”
“Yo,” said Matt.
“Sup, man. Where do I go now?”
Twelve months. Twelve thousand miles. And I’m finally right back where I started. Happy birthday…to me.
D
