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#236 - Wish #5
11/26/01 @ 9:17 pm

Wish for October 10, 2001

Think back over your years at school, over the good and bad. Then tell me about your favorite year in school. Why is it your favorite? Because it was the easiest? Or because it was the most fun? Tell me why you picked it, then don't forget to give us the rest of the details. Just because it was an excellent year, doesn't mean nothing bad happened, right? Did you break an arm the year you were voted Class Clown? Maybe failed Algebra the week before you started going steady the first time? As always, I want you to think, revel in your memories, and share every last detail with us. And have fun with it!

[By far my favorite Wish topic, and I forgot to even write about it! And now that I have, it is *long*. Apparently, I just don't know how to cram a year's worth of emotions into a quick entry. Who knew?]

I have so many happy memories associated with various schools. Meeting the Heathers. Crushes on boys. The smell of new school supplies. Being noticed by teachers when I did well. Being encouraged by Mr. Juvik. Talks with Mrs. Schuck. Naps. Slam books. Spiral Notebooks & Pee-Chees to write various grafitti all over. Meeting strange new people in college. Bee charming. Learning to read. And the bad? shiver Let's not go there yet...

I have to pick my Senior year in high school as the best school year of my life. Not really for any one thing. I did quite well grade-wise, but I did that many other years. Not just because of my friends, because there were other years that were just as exciting, and I was never as close to anyone as I was those two years I spent getting close to Heather in Hawaii. Not just because of the love life, because that was hellish most of the time. Nope, it was just a time, as Angela of "My So Called Life" so inadequately, and yet somehow succinctly, put it. A marvelous, heart-wrenching, joyous time. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

When my Senior year started, I was "engaged" to boot-camp fucker, technically. I remember doing quite well in my classes all throughout the year. I had both of my favorite teachers somehow in my schedule, I believe, all 3 trimesters. My soon-to-be-ex best friend and I went to a College Fair together. That was the day I memorized my Social Security number, because I wrote it about FIVE THOUSAND TIMES on the little cards requesting information from schools. Things were looking swell, even if my puny 3.5... GPA wasn't enough to get into either of the schools of my dreams: Stanford and Ithaca. Besides, I was going to be getting married within the next year, so what did that matter? In fact, what did college matter at all? I suddenly didn't care so much about moving to Portland and studying accounting to become filthy rich. All I cared about was wrapping my arms around the man I loved every night when we met up at home.

And then he dumped me. Ick. It was the most miserable Christmas of my life. Heartbroken, and in a new apartment without a phone, the lights went out for days in a snowstorm. We lived off of AM/PM minimart food for about 48 hours. We got no presents. Double ick.

In January my mother tried to commit suicide for the first time. What a birthday present! It was a horrible, horrible day. I didn't know what to do with myself, at home alone that night, my mother safely locked up in the psych ward of the hospital. I called my first boyfriend, RH, for comfort. He came and picked me up. I spent the night in the apartment he shared with his older sister when she was in town. She wasn't in town, but there was no sex. Not that night anyway.

The next few days were blissfully carefree. RH and I were rediscovering our feelings for each other. He tried to teach me to drive. We laughed. We looked longingly into each other's eyes. I called bootcamp fucker and asked him, once and for all, if things with us were finally over (he'd backtracked once before, and if it was over, I wanted to make sure). He assured me it was over.

I spent another night at RH's place. The Christmas tree was still up. I told him I had always wanted to know what it looks like to lay under the tree and look up at the lights. We turned off the lights and layed under the tree, looking up at the white-glowing stars of the tree. It was magical. Kenny G. was playing in the background. It was so incredibly romantic, and I was so comfortable with him, that my plans not to sleep with him were quickly thrown out the window.

I've never told anyone this, but I didn't know we were going to have intercourse until right before it happened. I was naked, and it was nice. But I wanted to touch him. I had no idea that my reaching to stroke his cock would cause him to lift up, rip off his underware, and lay back down between my legs, his cock firmly pressing against my vagina. I didn't want to. I was scared to death of what would happen if I said no and he didn't stop. So I didn't say anything. And then he was inside of me.

Within a week it was over. Turns out his freedom really was still more important than our feelings for each other. My heart was broken all over again. This time things ended much more bitterly.

The next few months were very odd. Single again, confused about life, I let my soon-to-be-ex best friend talk me into going out to The Evergreen State College to check it out. I really liked it. The first bombs or whatever of the Gulf War were dropped on that day. Life took a surreal edge as my classmates and I debated patriotism and oil and pacifism and heroism.

In February, I tried to make amends for wrongs I had committed. Dear Abbey wrote some piece about it being National Forgiveness day or somesuch. I clipped out the article, bought a 2nd newspaper to clip a 2nd copy out (duh, photocopies only 5� each!), and attached each one to a note begging forgiveness. One was delivered by a friend to RH. Or at least she tried. He refused it.

The other was delivered to the man who would be my husband. By my own hand. He hadn't spoken one word to me since the day the previous summer that I called him and told him I was still in love with Bootcamp Fucker, so I couldn't spend anymore time with him. I hated that he didn't even talk to me. It was so much worse that I was becoming involved with his circle of friends.

We spent alot of time together the following afternoons after school. And the next weekend, I was invited to an all-night sleep-over style birthday party for 2 members of "The Group", as we called ourselves. I'd never been to a boy/girl slumber party before. There was no alcohol. There was no sex. Just pizza and Monty Python and The Holy Grail and Tim Curry movies and Depeche Mode's feature length documentary: 101. And more pizza. And lots of jokes and laughter and tickles.

And the next morning, laying in our friend's bed talking, we found ourselves suddenly alone with Depeche Mode's "I Want You Now" playing on the radio. Did J & P know to disappear because that song had come on? Who knows. Never have I felt so much sexual tension. And we lived through it without doing a damn thing. We didn't even touch. I'm pretty sure we didn't even make eye contact. But all conversation between us stopped. It was pretty obvious that we were both debating kissing. But we didn't

The next week, there were more afternoons spent together. The following weekend was Tolo. Yah, I'm a dumbass, I didn't ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance. How pathetic is that? He was dating someone who was becoming a friend of mine. I didn't think it would be right to just ask him. He didn't go, because his girlfriend couldn't go (damn religious parents). But he knew I was going, and offered to come give me a ride home after. We spent the entire night together. First we tried to find a place to just hang out in his tiny car together all night. We switched places twice. Until finally it was so uncomfortable that he let me convince him my mother would be ok with it if he came over and slept on my floor.

He didn't leave my apartment for almost 36 hours after that. And still, not even a kiss between us.

That didn't happen until... Monday night, I think. Depeche Mode on the radio again. He was making my hair dance to the beat. I so wanted him to close the distance between us and kiss me. I was so afraid that because of his girlfriend, he would react violently or something if I kissed him. Until finally I was fed up and I *did* kiss him.

And it was nice. And we talked. About love. About relationships. About last summer. About the future.

The breakup with his girlfriend didn't go so well (do they ever?), but in the end it was amazing. She became my bestfriend, when my soon-to-be-ex best friend decided I was a bitch for what I had done to Sweetie's ex-girlfriend. Stealing him or whatever. LH herself thought SM was being ridiculous. If LH could get over it and see how happy Sweetie & I were together, what the hell was SM's problem being indignant on her behalf? Yah, we never figured that one out.

Over the next few months, I became one of The Group. Many evenings were spent driving around, listening to Depeche Mode. Going to the beach to watch the stars and listen to Depeche Mode. Going over to someone's house to play Tetris or watch Star Trek: TNG or listen to Depeche Mode. And did I mention this boy knew all the words to every Duran Duran song? How could I not love him.

We all went to Seaside, Oregon for Spring Break. We brought camping gear. It poored rain the entire time! We made a hillarious video for our mythology class, where we captured our men being incredibly witty (ok, just funny) on tape, not to mention getting to deck them out in dresses. It was a fabulous time, and I gained so many friends.

By summer, LH was my best friend, and she was dating Sweetie's best friend, and living out of my bedroom. I had just graduated with honors from high school, and so had she. I had won multiple scholarships and she had not. (hehe) I didn't really care, but I settled on attending Evergreen. She decided on WSU. So we had a summer of fun in front of us, with the men of our dreams at the door to court us every morning. Actually, they didn't leave most nights, so it was less romantic and more... a fight for the right to be alone with your snookums in the bedroom.

It was the most incredible summer of my life. And I deserved it, after such a shitty beginning to the year. I don't talk to anyone in the group anymore. Except I guess you should count the one that lives up stairs and grunts hello at us occassionally. Our best friend, JP, is technically part of the group, but she wasn't officially added until the next year, while I was away at college and she used the opportunity to try (semi-successfully) to seduce my Sweetie. But that's another school year entirely, so we won't get into that here. I've mentioned it a couple of times in my diary though, if you're really interested.

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