5:35 & July 07, 2005
I missed Chris today. That song by 12 Stones and the chic from Evanesence was deemed the song to remember him by at approximately 4:45 today. It's that time: to explain him in here. I'm feelin' like a walk down memory lane.
When we met, I thought he was gay, and a dweeb to top it off. I trained him when I had to, and I could tell he liked me. Or liked flirting with me. I remember when James finally got jealous enough to threaten him, yet still hang out with him after work 24/7. I wouldn't think of going near a 17 y/o father, though, so he had nothing to worry about. I started noticing him more. How could I not? We worked about 30 hours a week together. He could tell, and definitely took advantage with the flirting. There was a certian way he tilted his head that I LOVED whenever we'd talk like that. He just had a way with me. He had a way with a lot of girls. He's a model Ladie's Man: slacker, pothead, high school dropout, half-assed father. But he knows how to talk to you, and with that knowledge comes an ability to keep things from people like a pro.
So I fell. As soon as I mentioned one word about liking Chris to one person, I had myself believing it could work, too. I swallowed all the info (that he chose to give me) about his son and went on with it.
His voice was sincerely needy and I've got some complex where I like that. (I'm currently trying to steer clear of those types, but who knows.) He had the macho thing going on pretty well, too; as in, "I'll beat his ass," and numerous curse words sprinkled on top of each sentance out of his mouth, with an air of toughness. He was really violent, and strange with pain.
I noticed it, but overlooked the fact that he didn't answer me when I asked him why he had to move here.
Overall, I got along so well with the boy. He was so fun, and we just had a pure, light, everyday relationship. Except when it came to how we felt about eachother. He got roses delivered to me when we were at work about two weeks into it. It was so sweet; he hid in the backroom because he didn't want me to thank him. He didn't want anything from me, didn't expect anything at all. He wholeheartedly admired me, and was just trying to gain the same admiration in return. Things were the way they should be. He opened doors, held me the way I wanted to be held, and didn't mind my bad habits. But I had to let some of his go, too. Maybe that was my mistake. Not reaching out enough, and addressing his problems "Look at how wrong this is," never once came out of my mouth. He needed that. He wasn't looking for it, but he needed (needs) it.
So the trouble began at my V-Day party. My mom and his mom met, and his mom is a VERY outspoken character. I could have prevented the drama that night, too, by not inviting him. He wasn't supposed to come due to house arrest, but his mom didn't give a shit about anything and accompanied him, so it was "alright." Bah. Well, the headline for that was Mom tells Mom all.
I was banned from him. I went wild as a stallion. Of course I saw him. We worked together and I still had all of my privleges. That month was our best. We loved eachother by then. On his birthday I came home late and my mom saw a hickey. Now I know I could have played it off, because it was small, but at the time I was in the kitchen facing three blank walls. I admitted it. And was proud. Here I was, finally headstrong over something in my life. The punishment gave me time to focus on school, and focus on getting out of my mom's house. Only 9 months, we could make it, right? I couldn't go anywhere or do anything, so all the money I got from work went directly to the bank. Didn't she know she was empowering my future with him, not breaking it??
I felt it in my gut about three weeks before he quit. Yes, he quit working because he was unhappy with a manager. He quit being able to see me on a constant basis because he was unhappy with a manager. Still, I pursued a future with the boy.
4 months, I think, was the actual groundation time. She started to let me out some, around May. I snuck to see him on Friday the 13th. We met at the theatre and he looked awful. He stunk of cologne, and walked around as if he were on numerous drugs. On the first night we saw eachother in about 2 weeks. Horrible. As the night was winding down I was sort of feeling ashamed to be with him. As we were saying goodbye, She pulled up, and I knew it was over. She drove me home and made me quit work the next morning. I took verbal beatings for weeks. I deserved it. I was pretty much on top-knotch isolation lock-down. I had nothing but the TV, and books, and finally, my own brain. As much as I wanted to ignore important aspects of the relationship and be happy with Chris, natural rationalization... happened. I thought about things and I wrote a lot of things out and I just sort of HAD to do without him. And I was OK. My life was OK without him. There was no hole in me, like I thought there should be with real love. I didn't cut. I found my strength, and I love him for that, and that alone. Among my months of punishment someone in the household found out some things for me that aided in opening my eyes. Chris lied to me. He was here because of trouble in other states. He laughed as he drove away from the theatre that night. He moved to NC only 2 months after I was grounded when he promised me he never would. After I got out of trouble, I went to see my friends at work. Ex-work. They told him I was active again, and he tried to get in touch with me. "I heard you were out of trouble... I'll move back and we can work it out." 1) I'll get in MORE trouble if I communitcate with him, 2) I've told him, bluntly, that I don't want to anymore.
Even though I went through so much stress for that, it was one of those things I wanted to experience before my teenage years were outlived: the fight for "him."
He'll be my strongest love, forever, because of my self-discovery through him.
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