A chapter from the life of someone unimportant.

February 17, 2012
By Anonymous

I remember walking home, passing the same stores, with the same people outside. See, the village is different from anywhere else in the city, walking uptown everything is always different. You don’t know the people, their habits, hobbies. That’s why I love where I live, I know everyone, this community we have put together over the many many years. Anyways I’m getting off topic, so as I was saying I was walking home I passed the old lady always walking her two dachshunds, the man always working on his motorcycles, the construction workers all talking on the stoop outside the building being worked on. I turned the corner and saw a sign, I thought there must be a mistake, there was none. The house I grew up in, the only house I had ever lived in, have ever truly loved being in, was now for sale. I lived there for 18 years and now I have 6 months to leave. It seems everyone in my family is shrugging it off, theres really nothing we can do. I can’t shrug it off, it means too much to me.

I feel as if everything in my life is slowly coming to an end, which it is. I am going to college, leaving everyone I know and now leaving my home, only to know I will never be able to come back. I’ll come back to somewhere new, a strangers apartment trying to jumble all my unnecessary s*** into the corner. The awkward silence of the first dinner, “so.. what do you think” and I’ll say “it’s wonderful” covering my grief with a brief smile.

It’s a difficult reality to face. As the due date of leaving for college grows closer and closer I start thinking about who I’ve surrounded myself with, who I used to be and who I am. I wish I could say I am the person everyone thinks I am; the kid in the corner that seems like he never gives a s***, making witty comments, distracting from the dull presentation going on (except for you serri, you seem to just embrace it). But unfortunately thats not me. I’ve never been able to talk about my feelings, I had some what of a sad childhood, and have never been able to really speak about it. It seems to have closed down the part of my brain willing to communicate. And a drum roll please, for the big finale of where this is leading; I am simply just not a happy person. Don’t get me wrong, I am who I seem, that is me, but the reason I act the way I do is to distract people from seeing how I really feel, constantly pushing away saying its all alright. If there is one thing I hate more than anything, it’s pity. I used to just sit there quietly, people would come up and ask what was wrong, and wouldn’t stop asking. So I would put on a happy face and say whatever popped into my head. Fortunately my head is filled with wit, as cocky as that sounds, c’mon you know its true. I’ll get off topic and keep going until the person forgets why he or she ever came up to me.

Now Im starting to just rant, but as I was saying the people I would surround myself with. I always felt better than them, but I couldn't go out and get better friends because I never felt good enough for that either, it’s ironic, its frustrating. I look at my life as results on paper and think yeah, I have accomplishments, its not too bad especially for half ass-ing everything. My ultimate skill of procrastination has, well... not served me well. F*** it.

Whenever someone is about to start a new chapter of his or her life, at least in my case they go through a lot of self reflecting. All the regrets I have, which brings up half ass-ing everything. Who know’s maybe If I tried in school, at literally any point I could have gotten into a really good college. I could walk up to a girl and say “Hey, I go to Harvard” and I’m just assuming she would say “ Oh My God, I live next door please come over” and I would give a wink to the camera as I walk off with the surly STD filled girl who has trouble with words having more than three syllables. Hey I don’t judge, I embrace... Who am I kidding, I judge everything about everyone... Literally. That’s probably why I hate most people, for instance I was having lunch with a nice girl I met on the train on my way to school. I looked up at her and could hear her chewing, perhaps one of my biggest pet peavies. I faked a phone call, and said I would call her soon, I did not. This kept happening, at the beginning of this year mostly, out of nowhere I was struck with such confidence I could walk up to anyone. I went from my parents thinking “hmmm, do you think he’s gay?” to my mom calling me a s***. With love of course, with love. Then I just started feeling like an asshole, I would walk out on these girls only to never see them again, only to ignore their constant texts of “hey it’s been a while”, I’d look down press erase and go on feeling like an asshole.

Then I met one girl, I rather liked to be honest. I would see her everyday after school, my friends would ask me what was wrong with me, they knew how I used to be. I shrugged and made a sly comment about how they were going home to hangout with their right hand while I was going home to hang out with her left, you know that kinda thing. It was all fine and dandy, it was the first time in a long while that I was genuinely happy, that I wouldn’t sit in my room in silence for hours trying to arrange my thoughts which drive me crazy.

See I have many hobbies, I love building things, but I also do everything I possibly can to distract myself from, well... Myself. My thoughts are what trouble me. They are not scary or suicidal or anything just simply too many of them, their also not the most up beat around. I have a bad habit of over analyzing everything to its utter absurdity, until everything is well... Pointless. I like to imagine If I looked inside my head I would see filing cabinets and thousands and thousands of sheets of paper on the ground. I sit down, close my eyes and try to arrange each thought, each sheet of paper. Just last week I sat down for literally 2 hours trying to arrange my thoughts, so I would not be so uncomfortably anxious. Only to realize right when I stand up all the papers are on the floor again.

But this girl, she was the ultimate distraction. When I was with her I was only with her. When I was with all the random girls that couldn’t count to ten (I should give them more credit, they weren’t actually that dumb...) I was with my thoughts, oh yeah and them. I was happy doing nothing with her. Then this feeling started to go away, I was alone with my thoughts once again. I kept seeing her because it was simply easier than talking to her. If you know me, you know I love confrontation, but this girl well, I still believe she is the only genuinely good person I know, I have not met one person with something bad to say about her. And growing up in this teenage social scene in New York s*** talking is a hobby everyone takes part in.

I kept putting it off, putting it off. Then one day a girl I had always thought was so beautiful came into my head again. I texted her the next day asking if she would like to go on a walk with me, she said yes and we met. Some guys pick up girl at parties, by just walking up and grinding with them at clubs like the creepy insecure men they are. Not me, I’m a talker, and I’m damn good at it. That’s why if I ever want to get with a girl I just ask if we can go for a walk. This would be the first conversation we had ever had. We walked through prospect park on a very cold day as I walked with my bike, ordinarily I would not be so peachy in this weather. I was cold and my one hand holding the bike was pretty close to numb, ehh the blue/black color started adding a nice touch to my fingers. But I wasn’t in a bad mood like usual, every time I made eye contact with her I couldn’t help but smile. I had tickets to Saturday Night Live that night, with the other girl because she always told me how much she loved Jimmy Fallon and guess who was hosting, yeah I’m good like that. So I said good night and we stood there awkwardly for a moment, I suppose she was expecting for me to kiss her, I put my hand out to shake and smiled. Then rode home quickly to change and meet the other girl. The whole night I was thinking about the day I had, honestly I don’t even remember paying attention to one sketch during SNL.

I kept seeing the new girl, ok this is getting confusing we need names. First girl will be Charlotte and the new girl will be Rosaline, c’mon how classy are those names right? Classy names for a classy story. Wait where was I, I got distracted by googling classy girls names. Oh right so I kept seeing the new girl; Rosaline on the side while still seeing Charlotte. I worked my weekends so it would basically be going to bars or clubs one day with Charlotte and then just hanging out with Rosaline the next. It was working out perfectly except for the part of a) me feeling like a total dick and b) the constant thought of knowing on day, they will find out about each other. Part B had not happened yet, and for part A, well I’ve learned to live with it.

My feelings for the old girl; charlotte, (sorry I keep having to say old or new because since these are made up names I don’t remember who I assigned to which) slowly, but surly started to fade and my feelings for Rosaline slowly but surly grew.

My conversations with Rosaline were never deep, just entertaining I would say a witty comment, she would return with a witty comment. Basically when it comes to girls yes, she has to be good looking for my shallow-ness but if they do not come off as bright or how should I say... scintillating, I have trouble giving them the time of day, thats why these two stuck, I am usually the person to make people laugh, it was nice to laugh myself.

The difficulty with rosaline and I never having deep conversations all ended about last week as a matter of fact. We had plans to eat... “jelly beans”, you know the type of “jelly beans” that really make you see stuff. The type of “jelly beans” that you want to stay away from rooftops when on. God I hope I don’t get expelled. Regardless, so were in my basement, more of a hangout room, not really an actual basement. And we may have had the deepest conversation of my life. First she told me about her life, her worries, her troubles and asked about mine. For the first time I didn’t avoid the question, but first I sat up, looked at her and asked “do you think I am a happy person” and for the first time out of everyone I have ever asked she said “no” she went on to tell me why. Maybe it was just the “jelly beans” but I had never felt more connected to anybody in my life outside of my family maybe even including them. She was so spot on, it almost made me want to shed a tear. I went on to tell her about my childhood, she was curious to why it was so hard on me, what had actually happened. I told her, I looked over and she was crying. She told me that was the first time she had cried for somebody else. I had never opened up to anybody like that before, not my mom, not my dad, I don’t know maybe my dog on a drunken night. My dog doesn’t give a s*** about me though.

This was all recent, and I no longer have any feelings for Charlotte I really feel like such a dick, because I think I’m only still with her because she has fun stuff to do, I’m with her because of what she can do for me, while I am with Rosaline for what she does to me, you see?

As for me now? I am still with both, I am still dealing with the same problems, and I am still trying to think of a proper ending for this story, there isn’t one really. It’s true and hasn’t ended yet, so I’ll leave you with that.

To be honest, I had no clue of what to write about. I took the age old advice to just sit down and write, see what comes out, that’s why I have drifted so far off from how this story started. I wrote about what was on my mind. This is a chapter of my life, a chapter from the life of someone who is uniquely average. Thank you for reading.

The author's comments:
Literally not one hyperbole!!!!

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