Journal Entries
Love's Perfection
Posted Feb 27, 2002
I remember her face. A face framed by short dark hair that is etched in my memory forever. She was meticulous about her looks, though she might deny it. However, she was one of the few truly beautiful girls on God’s green earth. No makeup could enhance what had been touched already by a divine artist’s brush. Her high cheekbones, full, pouty lips, eyes that sparkled with amusement, eyes that were deep enough to be lost in forever, all of these things defined perfection. Her smile was amazing; it could light up the darkest night. Her laugh was full, and came readily. She had a figure that artists had been trying to create since ancient times. She could wake up in the morning, first thing, and be more beautiful than most girls after hours of ‘primping’. Her name was Jerelyn. At least that’s what most people called her. Her mother called by her first name, Ashley.
And she had a boyfriend.
Jerelyn and I worked at King’s Island. I did not know her. I knew of her; she worked at the caricature stand across from the “Fool the Guesser” stand I ran. Everyone knew me in that section of the park, for I talked all day on the microphone. Also, I went out on a few dates with a few of the girls that worked within earshot of me. Jerelyn, however, never gave me any notice. I’d try to get her attention, and she’d just throw it back at me; literally.
A guy gives a girl gifts to get her attention. He does it because it wants to at times, but he also does it to get points. I knew I couldn’t do anything to get Jerelyn’s attention. She had a boyfriend. She was untouchable. Knowing this, I decided to, mockingly; give her a bear from my stand. It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. I walked over, and gave it to her, trying to give her my most winning smile. She smiled and took it. A few minutes later, I was hit, full in the chest with a dripping, soaking wet, ugly bear. She drenched it in water, and flung it at me. After that, I gave up all hope of ever getting her to go on a date with me.
While I worked at King’s Island, as I said before, I dated a couple of girls that worked at the park. Yet, shortly after the first few dates, I would lose interest. Girls irritate me. I find them to be annoying. I don’t know why. There’s just something about girls that drive me crazy. One day, fed up with females, yet wanting to go do something, I asked Jerelyn if she wanted to do something, not wanting anything to come of it. I just wanted to go out and have a good time and not worry if she is going to think I am in love with her or not. Preparing for the worst, I asked. She said yes.
The time we spent together was fantastic. She made fun of me. I made fun of her. We were ‘cool’. We just drove around mostly. It ended up that she lived only about ten miles from me. I lived about twenty miles from King’s Island. Most of the people I had met at the park lived at least half an hour from me. Soon, a friendship began to blossom. It was great. I had always prided myself on not being able to fall for girls with boyfriends. Yet, as we spent more time together, I began to plummet, falling fast and hard.
Now, the reader might ask, “Where is the supposed boyfriend?” Ryan, the boyfriend, is Canadian. He goes to school here, in Ohio. His family lives in Canada and he went home for the summer. He would come back just in time for school. Jerelyn had not seen him all summer and was, in fact, going to visit him just a few short weeks after we had started becoming friends. She had been looking forward to it all summer. She dreamed of seeing Ryan. She missed him terribly. However, the more time she spent with me, the less she missed him, and the less she wanted to leave. One day, a few days before she left, we kissed. I had made it a point to not kiss her, to not show any signs of affection, because I did not want to have to deal with it just being a one-time thing. Yet, I could not help myself. And, apparently, neither could she.
She left for Canada.
It was the longest week of my life. Not knowing what was happening, not knowing what was going to happen, I spent the week questioning her actions and my feelings. She would sneak and send me an email or call me when Ryan wasn’t looking. She’d tell me how she missed me and couldn’t wait to come home. I wanted to know if they were still together. I hated the thought of her cheating on her boyfriend because of me. Finally, she came home. I went to her house to see her the evening she got home. She seemed irritated at me for wanting to know what happened. She said it was none of my business, that they talked and she told him that they ‘took it down a notch’. I was not exactly satisfied with the answer. However, I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I took it in stride. The rest of the summer was magnificent. I felt a potentially good relationship growing. No commitment, however, because Ryan was still in the picture. He just wasn’t a major player.
At least not yet.
He had to come back eventually. School was starting. For the most part, nothing changed. She spent more time with me than she did him. Everyday I cared for her more and more. She was frustrating as could be. She could be immature and selfish one minute and caring in the next. She had an attitude that inspired me, a seeming love for life. She loved punk music; the only kind of music I hated. She came with me to roller skate, my favorite past time, and even though she just sat there and watched, she loved to go. Yet, the thought of Ryan still over shadowed my thoughts. I never asked. I didn’t want to push. Until one day I asked her when she planned on making a decision. She told me she didn’t think about it. She told me I didn’t make her think about it. As if it was my fault that she hadn’t chose between us. And so, I began to periodically question. I did not want to drive her way by being too persistent. I had always wondered how people could care for someone that was with someone else. I had come to understand how they do. When you care for someone so much, you take what you can get, because that little bit is worth more than anything else is.
Ryan, on the other hand, was not so passive. Apparently, Jerelyn had not told him anything about me. Except that I was a friend that occasionally did nice things for her, things that would generally be considered romantic, things that she had no clue as to why I was doing them. It was tearing him apart, at least that is what she said. She told me she couldn’t do it anymore. One of us had to go. She weighed her options. I was, at the time, a college dropout, working full time, living the adult life. Ryan was going to go to college, most likely on a hockey scholarship. Ryan and Jerelyn shared the same friends, went to the same school; they even had lockers near each other. Ryan liked punk rock. And she said she loved him.
I was crushed. I had been dumped before. But I’d never been hurt before. I thought I was going to die. My heart broke. I wanted to hate her. I couldn’t, not if I tried. She still wanted to be friends. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t. I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t because I wanted to so much it hurt. I couldn’t see her because I couldn’t stand to look at her and know that she looked at another the way I looked at her. Jerelyn thought that everything would go back to the way it was, just without the affection.
I’ve only seen Jerelyn once since then. Maybe twice. Sometimes, she will call, and want to do something. She never follows through. Or maybe I never follow through. I have dated once since then, and that was not serious, and only very recently. Sometimes, I miss her. For the most part, I’ve moved on. I have no desire to date her again. Not exactly. I’ve been known to say that it would take a document signed by both her and Ryan as proof that they had broken up. Notarized so it would be legal. And also signed by Jerelyn’s mom and her best friend. Sometimes, when I hear from her, I get irritated at her immaturity. I forget that she is still in high school. When Ryan makes her cry, makes her feels like less than what she is, I want to say; “I told you so.” Yet, I couldn’t. For when I think about her, I remember only the good. It was Jerelyn’s flaws that made her perfect. At least in my eyes. The immaturity, the selfishness, and the mean streak she has; all of these “character flaws” make her human. She is dynamic. Like all other females, irritating, yet in a good way. She made my life interesting. She showed me more about love than every “good” relationship I’ve ever had. And sometimes, when I close my eyes, I see her face, and hear her voice, and then I smell her perfume on the breeze, and remember what it means to love someone, not for what someone should be, but for what someone is.
Discuss this Journal entry [3]
Latest reply: Feb 27, 2002
A Momentary Lapse Of Reason
Posted Jan 31, 2002
I am feeling happier as each day passes. I am growing every day. Sometimes I fail, but for the most part, I am becoming a better person. I am learning to love me for me, and let God do the work. It is hard to give yourself over. It is similar to love.
When you love someone, you give them part of yourself, a part no one else can touch. You give them the power to hurt you like no other can. Love blinds ones eyes to truth. This sounds bad, but is it wrong to want to believe that someone really cares about you, even if they lie or hurt you. To lie to someone is one of the greatest wrongs you can do. To decieve someone is an action saying that you do not care about them, that you do not trust them enough to be there when you need them. To lie about someone is just as bad. It hurts someone greatly, when you lie about them, even more so if you lie to them. You can say that there is greater good, but is there really? What is saved by hiding the truth? What happens when the truth comes out? The entire "protection" given by lying is false in itself for it has a foundation of dishonesty. The protection is false, blinders covering the eyes of someone. Which means what they see is not reality, but a shadow of it. And in the end, you dont get want you want. Because when you decieve someone it does more than hurt someone, it hurts you. How can you trust someone that doesnt trust you enough to be honest? And in the end, the person that lied, is lying to his or herself, convincing themself that what is not so is so, and what was so was not. You reap what you sow; when an individual does something, it ripples, affecting a myriad of people and situations. And there is no going back, the bridges are burnt, and only time and effort build them back, but if one does not want to take the responsibility for their actions, then one is still lying to themselves, trying to make untruth truth, and that they themselves need time to realize the implications of what they have done, and they need time to reach the maturity level required to patch up the roads they have destroyed, and the walls that they have built up. One might say that they arent going to make an effort on their own, that somebody else needs to help, because it takes two to tango, however, you have to go so far by yourself before you get what you think you deserve, because you made the mistake, you decieved, you broke the trust. And if something is really important to someone, they will do what it takes to preserve what they find important.
Relationships are about compromise. Meeting in the middle, maybe not the exact center, but both parties have to head towards each other. If you say you love someone, and you are going far away, if you truly love that person then it is logical you would at some point want to be together forever. Maybe not get married now, but if you are going to be together always then you have forever to do it. You would try and compromise if your party didnt want to leave their friends and family or was unable to go. If you love someone you can be trusted to be faithful while they are away, if you cannot, then your love is impure, and not everlasting. If you require physical contact to feel loved then you do not love truly. Love is not physical, it is emotional and spiritual. It is that supernatural bond between two people that nothing can interfere with. Love is a growth, to decieve is to destroy. Nothing is gained by fraudulent behavior, but everything can be lost. And with love, everything is gained, and nothing is lost.
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Jan 31, 2002
The Cheese Stands Alone
Posted Jan 26, 2002
Do you like yourself? Think about it, truly, do you enjoy being you? Not when you are with a bunch of people, but when you are alone, with noone else around. I do not like being me. I did, but something happened. I am bitter, and I cant make it go away. Not bitter at something specific, but everything in general. I had a friend that I see on occasion, and when I do, she says that I make fun of her quite a bit. At first, I thought she was crazy, I always made fun of her. Yet I realize now that I did. And I dont know why. Im at school now, and I am meeting all kinds of people. Yet, I am a punk. Not meanly entirely, but mean enough. I am liberal to a degree that the other students dont seem to like much. I dont want to be, I want to be better, yet I cant help myself. Its me, the me that Ive always been that is the problem. How can one be something he is not? I am miserable. I realize all that I am, and I dont like it. Its like in the movie, "What Women Want" where Mel Gibson finds out that no one really likes him, they just pretend to. I think thats me. I fear its too late for me to change, that I have already made my image and it cant change. I need something that I cant do on my own, and I cant find it, its right out of my reach, in front of me, but I cant get to it because I am in my way.
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Jan 26, 2002
Melancholy
Posted Dec 31, 2001
I am in a state of semi constant irritation. Life, as expected, is never what one expects. We only have the future to look for, a future that is never guaranteed and rarely what is expected. I find that each day brings dissapointment more than satisfaction. Few things ever live up to expectations. Friends, family, jobs, and most importantly myself. Is it strange to become irittated at my own self being irritated. And yet I am irritated. Doubly so. My inability to control the world around me is most frustrating. My family finds the decisions I have made in the past few years to be lacking. And even worse is the fact that the decisions I have made to improve my situation are not sastisfactory. I know I am doing what I want. I am going to the school that I want to go to. I work where I want to work. The only thing stopping me from being happy is the fact that right now I feel like Im going no where. I can not wait until the time where I leave all that is here behind and I can start living the life I want to live. On one hand, I will miss the constant contact with my family and friends. But I wont miss the feeling that I am there, but not with them. I am talked about like I am a burden, and treated like a child. My friends, though they are my friends, live lives that I cant be a part of. I want to do stuff with them, but I cant enjoy some of the activities that they insist of partaking in are just....wrong.
Maybe Im just lonely. I dunno. I want to be in a world of my choosing. Living, not just being. I just am tired. Tired of waking up every day to the same thing, of not being able to seperate today from yesterday.
Discuss this Journal entry [2]
Latest reply: Dec 31, 2001
Skate or Die
Posted Dec 20, 2001
You mention skating these days and most people think of blades or boards. People think of extreme skating. Jumps and flips, stuff like that. I love to skate myself, but what I do is not considered extreme. Most people would say it is childish, something they did when they were 12. What I do is considered artistic, if you were to classify it, and its not on ice skates. But on roller skates.
I dont know why I started enjoying skating so much. I never did as a kid. I was too good for the local rink, the patrons there were too nasty for me. But I needed an easy job and they were hiring and my buddy knew someone that worked there. So, I got a job handing out skates. At some point I realized how much I loved to skate. And I loved watching the better, more advanced skaters dance and show off. I only had one problem--I sucked.
I couldn't skate backwards. I could barely skate forwards. But I bothered everyone I knew to teach me their moves. Soon I was skating backwards. On my toes. On my heels. On one toe and one heel. Then came toe jamming. Toe jamming is dancing on skates, to put it simply, but it is so much more. It is difficult looking, and it looks cool, but it is not hard to do. It just looks hard. Once I learned to toe jam, I perfected it. Not trying to do anything but skate good. I wanted to do it right, not to show off, or to prove anything. I just did it for me. I soon learned to spin, and to control a spin. And eventually I had people asking me for technique tips.
One day, Kevin, who I thought was the shiznitz on skates, and a large inspiration to my own style and moves, told me that he was amazed at how good I was, and he thought I was the stuff on skates. Then it hit me, I am good at it, but I dont care, because I love to do it so much. I love the feel of the floor beneath my wheels and the flow of the music, I love the grace that have, especially because I am a klutz. I love how it makes me feel. I feel alive when I skate. But when Kevin complimented me like that, I never felt prouder, I learned in about a year (and not all of that time was consecutive) what had taken some a lifetime to do. And I was just scratching the surface.
No matter where I go, my skates will always be there. It isnt a hobby, its a passion. And I'll skate until I die, or I wont be living.
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Dec 20, 2001
terminalfrost
Researcher U181026
Write an Entry
"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a wholly remarkable book. It has been compiled and recompiled many times and under many different editorships. It contains contributions from countless numbers of travellers and researchers."