Sunday, March 28, 2010

On the Record (but not really)

Occasionally, there are things I wish I could just say and be done with. Things that would probably make life a little more awkward than it already is. Sentences that wouldn't really change things, but might open a few peoples' eyes. The kind of things that, since you can't say them, they just grow in your chest, like that feeling you get when you're late, and you miss the last exit you could've used on the freeway, in massive traffic, and you know there's no way in HELL you're going to be able to turn the car around, go back, and lead life as if you'd made that choice a mile ago. So, like the necessary screams of road rage after such an event, I feel the need to let out a little frustration in a place that only I am really present.

Big reason for all of this is my brilliant stupid "mature" decision to avoid the idea of relationships all semester. People say it's mature because they either envy the stranglehold I want to keep on my emotions, or they mean "pathetic." Either way I don't really care. A 10 year old would look like an adult on this campus. But that's not nice to say, I suppose.

It was actually an easier choice than I would have thought - once the option to date is gone, so is the temptation to worry/socialize/bend over backwards/try, or just generally give a flying shit. But that, of course, doesn't keep amazing people from just walking right through my life whether I have personal rules or not.

Long story short, I know a girl. And she is beautiful, smart, funny, and clever. I knew I could have loved that girl from the first week I met her. And while you are in fact witnessing the most I will ever emotionally express this side of a soccer field, yes, I get it - none of this writing matters.

So why bother? There's something strangely satisfying about writing something where it's public enough, but knowing that no one will ever really figure it out. I get to keep my dignity, and she gets to go on living her life, without having to think about any of this.

I'll probably never see her again after this year - actually, I only wish that - there's a very good chance that I will, but sitting there and watching her smile, or laugh, while I pretend I only like her, is sometimes too much.

In any event, this post was for me. It's also for a girl, who will never read this, see it, or know about it. But that won't stop me from admiring the hell out of who she is, or appreciating her as the friend she is.