Sunday

Julion (7/14/08 Monday)^

I'm killing myself. Julie's not doing it, I am. I just can't do this. Everybody I saw and spoke with--co-workers, the clerk at the grocery store, even patrons!--I wanted desperately to tell about this crush, this PROBLEM! I want help with it, advice, an advocate to talk to Julie--I don't know. The Fool doesn't give a damn for the Wise Man's words; he'll just beat him till he can't talk anymore. What a fool I feel already, staring at Julie, grinning whenever she looks at me. I'm becoming the Creepy Guy! And tomorrow, because I was that guy today, I'll be Sullen Aloof Guy. When the hell am I going to be me? Somebody else has to be told. Gay-Lynn. She's always been a cheerleader, and can be trusted to be discreet. Maybe I'll get Stacey to tell her. I don't know what will come of this; for once, I'm not thinking ahead, pondering the variables, concocting scenarios--I simply feel it has to be done. I will feel better for it, is all I know. I'll at least have a support group. I feel better already, having a plan, of sorts. That still doesn't help me with my daily behavior, but Gay-Lynn can likely be counted on for some meaningful advice or philosophy.

Humor--hah! The joke's on me. Reading what Julie reads, watching what she watches, listening to music she likes--am I trying to get to know her or to be her? I want to know what she wants; I want to know her failures, her sadness, her triumphs, what makes her happy--all those things I will never find out reading Cadfael and listening to Trashcan Sinatras. My empathy might be misdirected, but I feel she's in pain. I don't know her age (though I could easily find out) and don't want to know before she tells me herself, but she's not far off my own, maybe a little younger. I don't know if she's been married. I find it very hard to believe she hasn't. She may be somewhat shy, but she's no wallflower. I can't be the first guy she's struck dumb, though maybe also not the first to be cowed by her slate-blue eyes and her blazing smile. (Maybe I'm not even the first guy to strain to express her unique beauty.) Julie fascinates me, and something tells me that that's the bottom line, the origin of my feelings of her.

Well, look: Here I am, at eleven p.m., having just had some coffee, knowing full well how sensitive I am to caffeine, not caring how late I might yet be up, because I can't stop thinking about Julie, and I have to try to express it, let it out, or I'll just dream fitfully about her. Besides, the less sleep, the less dreaming.

^Well, look: Here I am, none the wiser for any of this speculation and empathy. The fascination may still be there, but it may be just my pride trying to not let me admit I lost sleep over someone who, after all, was only beautiful. I am permanently the Sullen Aloof Guy now, that's definitely pride's fault. I still can't listen to my Trashcan Sinatras. (Oct. 21, 2009)

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