overload of emotions

May 20, 2008 - 21:59 PM PST
It's been a while... I get that. And I know that very few people are probably reading this entry, as it seems as though I've fallen off the face of the Quarterlife earth as of late. I'm here though. Read if you want, don't if you don't. I don't really care... I just needed somewhere to vent. There have been so many things going on in my life lately that I don't know what to make of or how to react to, and I don't even know how to put them into words. This box here, though, it's the place where I can say anything, type anything, and somehow my emotions begin to take forms, and I can sort through my thoughts and have some sort of corny, reflective moment. So, if you are reading, just go with it. I know that I sound whiney, pathetic, melodramatic; trust me, I know. I know.

Everything kind of started to build up last week. I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and it's driven by this weird thing in my body where I'm producing antibodies to a virus that I got rid of when I was four... This causes all these weird symptoms that entail everything from exhaustion to physical pain. Before I get really sick, I always get this specific pain in my arms and back. It's like I've been lifting weights for hours, and then attacked with a baseball bat. Tingling somehow works its way into the combination, as well. It sounds weird, but the pain is so specific I can identify it the second it comes on. Sometimes, very rarely, I lose my appetite for days as well. The loss of appetite and pain began last week.

I had gained a lot of weight over the course of the past few months. My friends had dumped me completely, as they couldn't stand putting up with my constantly being sick. They were pretty brutal about it, too- they tried to make me entirely friendless, and make me aware of my every flaw, every misgiving. Needless to say, it was difficult for me. I was battling depression (which, it turns out, is a symptom of Chronic Fatigue), and just falling apart a bit.

Recently, though, I've been like a different person. I've made new friends (as elementary school as that sounds), and am finally able to concentrate on my school work again. I've thrown myself back into all of my activities whole heartedly, and am so busy I don't have time to worry about what happened. Last week, when the pain and loss of appetite started, I just kind of went with it. My brother had gotten his appendix out a few days before, and my mother, who has MS, was having too much trouble dealing with everything. I thought it'd be better if I kept it to myself.

After a few days of eating almost nothing, I had a party to go to. It was formal, and I decided to wear an old dress. I put it on, along with a pair of my mom's stilettos and massive silver hoops. Looking in the mirror, the girl I saw wasn't me. The girl in the mirror had an almost visible clavicle, and there was some definition to her cheekbones. She was pretty, with eyes made up perfectly and bangs with no funky kinks in them. I almost didn't recognize myself. I walked downstairs, ready to grab my bag and go, when I said goodbye to my family. They all noticed the difference, too. I had about ten minutes to kill before having to go pick up one of my closest guy friends, a boy who seems like my brother, and decided to chat with my mom for a bit. We talked about the dress, the makeup, the party ("Don't drink and drive. There will be an inspection of your knees when you get home. No substances that Nancy Reagen wouldn't approve of.", etc. I finally brought up the subject of my weight, and how I was feeling better about myself. She confirmed that I was no longer a "chunky monkey". I left the house determined to continue to eat well.

I picked up J at his house. We hugged, awkwardly, and I helped him pick out cologne. His mother gave him an abridged version of the party ethics lecture I had received earlier, and we were off. We joked harmlessly on the drive, attempting to name my bossy GPS lady. Eventually, the topic of our love lives came up. J brought up a hookup of christmas past (or, of October past) of mine, asking whether or not I still liked the guy. I replied that I didn't, that it had been too long ago. He smiled sweetly, and teased me a bit for having been caught directly after the act. He then mentioned that he'd never really gotten farther than a simple peck. It surprised me, in all honesty; J's a really, truly good-looking guy. He's tall, with shaggy dirty blonde hair and green eyes. His smile is adorable, the kind that girls swoon over... His only issue is his shyness (and the fact that he's not the sharpest tool in the shed). I promised him that at the party, I'd find a girl to fix that.

The party was lame. I hung out with some friends, had played some Guitar Hero, whatever. After a couple hours, we decided to bail and go watch Lord of the Rings at my house. The attitude in the car on the way home was different, I should have noticed it then. He found silly ways to compliment me, and watched my as I drove. When we got to my house, he opened my door for me. As I put my key into the house door, he came up behind me, putting his arms round me, waiting for us to get in. I giggled, thinking that it was sweet how he was experimenting flirting with me. It was more of a platonic kind of flirting, anyway... Nothing major.

We got inside, and my mom invited him to sleep over. He always used to when we were kids, so it seemed like no big deal. We changed into our PJ's, and went downstairs to watch the battle at Minah's Tirith.

My brother joined us for the first hour. I fell asleep for half of it. When my brother left, he woke me back up. J tickled me, trying to get me to wake fully up and watch with him. Over the course of the next twenty minutes, he managed to tickle me constantly, put his arm around me, scoot closer to where I was sitting. I thought nothing of it. At around 1:30, my mom buzzed us on the intercom, saying it was time to go to bed.

I sat up and began to gather water bottles, blankets, etc. I was wearing my oversized, long sleeved Sharks shirt with a pair of old boxers; not exactly a "come and get it" kind of look. I sat back down next to him, though, and began rambling on about how tired I was, and how much chemistry homework we had to do the next day. When I looked up, something unexpected happened; he kissed me.

J, the boy who I think of as my brother, kissed me. I was stunned beyond belief. After a few seconds of us just sitting there, lips pressed together, I pulled back. I began to ask what he had just done when he leaned forward and kissed me again.

I should have pulled back. I should have stopped it. In all honesty, I had no idea what to do. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, as we were such good family friends, and I didn't want to make things weird. I figured that a simple kiss wasn't too big of a deal; the guy deserved to be kissed. He pulled back again.

"We're just friends," he said.

"Well, duh," I responded.

"Just friends," he said again. Then he kissed me again. By then, I was beginning to realize that this wasn't exactly normal friends territory. I pulled back, and stood up. I mentioned that we were supposed to be getting to bed, and that it wouldn't be good if my mother walked downstairs and found us like this.

"Cassie," he said. "We're never going to get this time again." He grabbed my hand, pulled me back into him, and kissed me again. It was so awkward- he didn't know how to kiss, so he just stood there with his arms wrapped around me, pressing his face against mine. And then he began to get handsy.

Kissing is one thing. Groping is another. I pulled back.

"No."

"Cassie, come on."

"J, no."

"Cassie, we've been friends forever." He went in for another feel.

"No."

I got up, he followed, got in front of me, and hugged me. I thought he had realized that he'd been out of line. He kissed me again, and since I felt badly for having rejected him, I let him. Then he tried to stick his hand down my boxers.

I shoved him, and walked away.

"Cassie, come on. We're not going to have this time again. Come on. Come on." He kept saying it, over and over like a bad movie. I walked up the stairs.

"No. I'm tired."

"Cassie, come on."

"No." I kept walking. He followed, head down. I walked him to his room, and showed him where the remotes were. He came over and hugged me goodnight. Then he grabbed my ass. I shoved him, again.

"I'm sorry, but what part of no don't you get?"

"We're friends, Cassie. Come on."

I had started to shake by then. My whole body hurt from the Chronic Fatigue, and by that point, he had gotten to be too much for me.

"Goodnight, J." I began to walk out of his room. He grabbed my hand. He tried to put it on himself. I yanked it away.

"Goodnight, J."

I walked up to my room, turned off the lights, and crawled into bed. I was shaking so badly that the bed was moving. I could barely close my eyes, let alone fall asleep. About ten minutes later, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. They didn't belong to anyone in my family. I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. They stopped outside my room. I willed my body to be still, just for a few moments. After a minute or so, I heard the footsteps go back downstairs, and the lights being clicked off.

I stayed awake for an hour or so more, thinking, shaking, and trying to fall asleep.

The next morning was awkward, to say the least. I walked downstairs to wake J up, trying as hard as I possibly could to make things seem normal. I sat on his bed, shook him a bit, and announced that it was time to do chemistry, as I needed his help in order to keep from failing miserably. He grunted, and shooed me out of the room as he pulled his sweats back on.

I went into the kitchen, and began to make breakfast for everyone. I didn't eat- I wasn't hungry. He walked in, hair rumpled and clothes wrinkled, and didn't even acknowledge me. He just started talking about Fantasy Baseball with my brother. I attempted conversation. I failed.

Finally, my brother left. It was just the two of us, some waffles, and a chem book. I asked him a question, and got a one word response. His dad showed up a few minutes later, and J walked out, barely mumbling a goodbye. No hug. No "see ya". No sorry.

We still haven't spoken, and it's three days later. I see him all the time; we have moments of direct eye contact at school, and I know we're both thinking about it. For some reason, the image of this boy, this sweet boy I've known my entire life, saying "come on" over and over again won't leave my mind. The picture of his face, of his hands on my body. It gives me chills... and it wasn't even really anything.

I don't know how to go about talking to him. Every time I tell myself I will, I chicken out. I know I have to, though; we're family friends. We see each other constantly... It's not like we can avoid each other forever. I need to talk to him, just to let him know that we're still okay. We're still friends. I don't know what he's worried about. I don't know if he feels rejected, or if he's scared that I "like" him, or that he just is awkward around girls in general. I just don't know...

Today I ate a meal for the first time in three days. My nerves had been getting to me... I finally stuffed something down, as my mother threatened to make me cancel plans to go to Santa Cruz for the night with my now-closest friend unless I ate. It's funny how things work; she hates it when I eat too much, but the second I start to get thin and eat less, she's just as mad. I can't win.

So, anyway, there's the beginning of what's going on in my life. I've recently realized that there's a very high possibility that I'm in love with my ex-boyfriend who is now in rehab, and that I have to start worrying seriously about my math final.

Please wish me luck. Advice would be greatly appreciated.

Love and kisses (platonic ones, of course),

CG

overload of emotions

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1 Comments

Jun 03, 2008 - 16:59 PM

z1nab on
May i remind you that 'friends' who dump you instead of having a minimum of compassion do not pack the gear to get to really know you. As i've kept saying all my life: if they can't take you as you are, they don't deserve your friendship. Nor do they have the courage to start building a good relation. You see, our modern society can easily compare to the american wildlife: There is always more sheep than there are wolfes. The only difference is that we humans are given the choice to be one or another.