Thursday was absolutely horrible. I spent the whole day hoping I wouldn't either pass out or throw up, and he wouldn't look at me, let alone talk to me. Friday we exchanged a few words, but I could still tell that he was freaked right out. We went to the performance after school, and I went through the motions, and it was weird when we made eye contact while we were playing, and it was especially weird when we did call and response. I do not think I did very well at the performance. I just wasn't there mentally, so there was no soul in what I played. Jethro Tull was especially disappointing. People were impressed with it, but it had no intensity and all the articulation was weak. Every time I look at him now, I feel miserable. He is just so fucking different, and so fucking amazing, and so fucking adorable, and it is now official: I cannot have him.
Dave talked to his girlfriend in the car. As Molly drove him to his performance. She sent him a package with clothes and a letter and a seventeen magazine. "It's kind of an inside joke -" he explained. "She kind of actually reads seventeen magazine, and I kind of make fun of her for it." He says that she calls, on average, six times a day. He says that she calls so much that he has not been sleeping much or doing much schoolwork. "But I don't care," he says defiantly, with bags under his eyes. He knows the names of all of her friends, but when he talks about us, he keeps our genders unspecified. She has him muttering "I love you too" at the end of conversations.
Overall, this has been a spectacularly terrible week. Clearly, there was only one thing for us to do:
Watch chick flicks.
We called Emma, who is miserable from having to stay home all the time because of her weakened immune system. (No happy people allowed at chick flick movie nights!) Somehow, she was allowed to come to Molly's, and she brought Bridget Jones' Diary. Bridget Jones' Diary is officially the best chick flick of all time, especially when you are miserable. I will now list the reasons:
- It is extremely silly
- There is a scene where British men fist fight
- There is a little bit of Bridget in all of us
- Colin Firth
- Colin Firth
Sigh
Anyway, it was good to talk to Emma after so long (again.) She has actually been kept updated on the Julian situation since she's been calling me recently, but she let me tell her about it again, complain about it, and try to figure out what the hell is going on. Emma is one of those people who seems to genuinely enjoy listening to people complain, which is good because I like complaining.
Emma: So what did he say, exactly?
Me: Well, he didn't ever actually say, "no." It was more just like, "Aaahh, does not compute!" He told me he was freaked out, and then he sent me an email that was like, "okay, let's forget this ever happened and wait for the awkwardness to go away on its own." Like he didn't even consider it. I mean, I thought I'd killed him for a while there over the phone. There was just silence...
Molly: Well what did you say? Did you actually ask him a question, or did you just say, 'I like you'?
I hadn't really thought of this.
Me: Well... I said 'I like you,' and then I asked him if those feelings were at all mutual...
Emma: Well I mean, I'm sorry but, what do you expect? He's Julian - he likes... playing jazz and... doing his homework.
Me: Yeah, I know, but I guess I didn't think he's be this uptight about it. He's not uptight about everything...
They looked at each other.
Me: Well he's not! I mean, he's friendly, if you talk to him.
Emma: Why do you like him, exactly?
Molly: Well... He is rather adorable. I can see it.
Emma: Yeah, I suppose so. Aw. Cute little Julian, with his no chin and his too-short pants and his not talking to anyone...
Molly: I want to like, buy him some pants that fit him.
Me: WHERE?
We all laughed.
After Bridget Jones Diary (during which all three of us said "awwwww" in high pitched voices every time Colin Firth came on screen) we watched Strictly Ballroom. After Strictly Ballroom, I said, "I don't want to go home."
"Do you want to stay over?"
"...Yeah."
Emma couldn't stay, so we drove her home, and then my mom came with some clothes, and then we went to bed, where we talked for several hours about everything, including Dave and the person who I now choose to call Whatsherface even though I know her name perfectly well.
Molly: She reads seventeen magazine.
Me: I know.
Pause.
Me: I'm really pretty upset about this.
Molly: I am too. Like, I'm actually really pissed off. Like, basically, I want to find her and kill her.
Me: I guess what really bothers me is that she just seems nothing like him.
Pause.
"Or US," we said at the same time.
Molly: Yeah, what is this? He doesn't belong to some random girl from New York! He belongs to us!
Me: Ugh, this is terrible.
Molly: I know.
Pause.
Me: See, I don't know why we should be surprised though.
Molly: I'm surprised.
Me: Oh, I am too. I'm just saying - Just because he's Dave doesn't mean... Anything. I mean, he's clearly the kind of person who likes having a girlfriend. And he's never had the oppurtunity to before. And I keep wanting to say to him, "Dude, you're being irrational. You're being rude. You're being selfish." But Dave is never irrational or rude or selfish. Doesn't he... Doesn't he deserve some attention for once?
Molly: She reads seventeen magazine!
Me: God, I know.
Pause.
Me: When they break up - and they will - do you think you'll ever tell him how you feel?
Molly: I dunno. Maybe... Probably not. I guess... I guess I almost feel like I shouldn't, because I feel like he'll always like you more.
I didn't know what to say to this.
Eventually we got back to Julian.
Me: Basically, I feel absolutely terrible. I've just liked him so much for so long... I just feel like there has to be something I can do about this...
Molly: I don't know if there is.
Me: But I can't lose! I'm the main character!
Molly: It's weird. It's like he's married... to being alone.
Me: That's the thing! He's just an unappologetic loner...
Molly: And you're attracted to that.
Me: Yes! What the hell's wrong with me?
Pause.
Me: I don't get it. Can you be happy like that? Just completely refusing to get involved in anything emotional?
Molly: I think some people can.
Me: Goddamnit. It's just... I finally find someone who I've actually really liked as a person for as long as I've known him - who everyone likes - and who's just really nice and funny and mature and a genius... And he is not at all interested.
Molly: Highschool sucks.
Me: Yeah.
I'm pretty sure all this stress is making me physically sick. Besides feeling constantly emotionally shitty, I have a headache and feel queasy and tired at all times. It's really no wonder. I did spend a good seventy-two hours straight experiencing an intense fight-or-flight response in the middle of the week.
I suppose if he'd said yes, I wouldn't have known what to do with him anyway. And I suppose nothing really is going to change about our relationship. And I suppose I am proud of myself. Seriously, even I can't believe I did that. I think I may now be one of the ballsiest people I know.
Still though... It hurts. A lot.
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