The Deepest Present That I've Ever Recieved

     Anastasia  gave me a copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower as an early Christmas present, and I'been reading it voraciously.  In fact, I just finished it, and its been the cause of quite a bit of pretty heavy thought.  When Anastasia gave the book to me, she said, "I think you can relate, but in a good way," and she was right.

     Charlie was, at first, foreign to me.  I don't think the same way he does, I don't have the same social problems that he does.  At least, Me right now doesn't.  But when I thought about it, Charlie and Me from not too long ago aren't all that different.  This book made me remember a time in my life that I've worked hard to put behind me, but not in a way that makes me blame anybody.  It wasn't a bad memory; it was reflective, and seeing how Charlie handles the situations that he's thrown into is helping me to figure out why I dealt with my own problems in the way that I did.  And as Charlie's letters kept coming, I started to see that Me right now isn't all that different from Charlie.  Like I said before, its not that the details about us are similar, save for one striking resemblance.  I don't do drugs, I don't skip class; I don't have the same psychiatric problems or the same background as Charlie.  I'm like him in the same way that I'm like everybody else: we all feel.  We feel the same hurt, fear, and sadness; the same happiness and love.  We may feel these things for different reasons, but these emotions are what tie us all together, what gives us our humanity.  So, yeah, I'm like Charlie, in a broad, overarching sense, and in one other way...

     Anastasia, you are my Sam.  I think this is what you wanted me to take away from the book, and its what I have taken away.  The reasons differ, but the idea is the same.  I know that I love you, and I think that you have feelings for me, but you also have stronger feelings for someone else.  I'm doing my best to come to terms with this, and to be happy that you've found somebody.  Do I still want that somebody to be me?  Yes.  But its not, and that's not the most important thing.  The most important thing is that you're happy with the decisions that you've made.  If this means that I've missed the purpose of the story, then so be it.  Chbosky will just have to be disappointed in me.

     Thanks again for the book.  I can't say that it made me feel better, but it did make me see more clearly.  There are still things that I'm missing, and there always will be.  I'll never know how anyone other than myself really feels, and even knowing how I feel can be a challenge sometimes.  But getting a peek inside somebody else's head has made me understand some of the things that I've done wrong, why they were wrong to begin with, how I can fix them, and how I can't.  Participation has its place, and so does being a wallflower.  The hard part about life is figuring out where those places are, and what comes in between.

A Crisis of Reality

     Getting friend-zoned sucks.  I mean, its not like I didn't know that I was in the friend-zone before, but... confirmation is not fun.  My life seems to be going through a cycle of high's and low's recently, and if you haven't guessed, right now is not one of the high points.  Of course, as low's go, this isn't the worst of them, either.  I'm not feeling hurt so much as a depressed acceptance.  Looking back on our time together, I'm beginning to question whether there ever really was any connection, not physically, but emotionally.  Have I just been deluding myself for the past month?  I really, really want to know.  Do you feel romantically attracted to me at all?  Or should I just give up hoping?  Gods, love is hard.

Happy Camping

     Things are good.  I delivered my note to Anastasia yesterday, and I dare say that it well over pretty bloody well.  She's happy, and that makes me happy.  Auditions were yesterday, as well, and while they didn't go perfectly, I can't say that I'm really disappointed.  I know that not everybody (myself included) got their first choice of parts, but Fabio has much more experience than I do at being gay, and I'll be damned if I don't have fun playing Mookie!

     Talking (texting) with Anastasia has become something of a nightly ritual.  I look forward to speaking with her every evening, and it feels even better now that there's even more transparency between us.  I can't think of many better ways to spend a night at home than staying up late and talking about whatever until we fall asleep.

     So, yeah.  I'm pretty pleased with my existence right about now.  If my state of being was represented by a metaphorical woodsman, he'd be doing a fun little jig all around his imaginary homestead.  And all of this mental dancing can mean only one thing:  Life's good.

Ignorance, Bliss, and the Lack Thereof

     Anastasia and I went to Dunks after school today.  I ate, she drank, and we talked about relationships.  This topic of relationships is one that is closely intertwined with Derek, and revolved around him particularly today.  And while discussing Derek, I realized that my feelings towards him have changed since my last post (or rather, come into existence).  I don't like the fellow.  I've nothing against him personally, he's a nice enough guy (as far as I can tell).  Rather, its the situation that I find myself in that makes me dislike him.  We're playing on different teams now (but not in a homosexual way), and I just can't bring myself to like you anymore.  If its any consolation, I'm sure that if you were made aware of the situation, you'd feel the same way about me.

    And while Anastasia and I were talking, who should walk into Dunks but Tobias.  And who should walk over and begin to third-wheel but Tobias.  Though I suppose I should thank him, because he did bring to my attention a few topics that I had been missing.

     Firstly, that people have much more depth than I gave them credit for.  Tobias is very opinionated, as well as (compared to me, anyway) very well informed about others.  We talked about hate, and how it is a much more common emotion than I originally thought.  There are many layers to relationships, like onions, or ogres, and I need to remember this when I'm interacting with people.  Because there's always the layer that you can't see.

     Secondly, the topic of morals.  I have long believed that morals are individual, and that everyone makes their own.  Our conversation today solidified this thought, but it also brought to the surface a lot that I was unaware of.  About myself (Past-Me can be a jackass), about Tobias (what an odd definition of friendship he has), and about Anastasia (you're cultured, I like that).  Morals are something that you craft and find for yourself, and no one, be they maths teacher or undercover cop, can change them, save for yourself.

     And Thirdly, that the world was a happier place before I knew just how convoluted and fucked up human relationships can become.  Granted, I'm almost certain that I've yet to see the dark end of the spectrum, and I hope that I never do.  But just a little bit of light is gone from the world knowing how other people really feel about each other.

     Upon re-reading the above, I notice that my writing seems a bit disjointed.  But I won't change that, because it suits the thoughts that are tearing through my brain right now.

     Its been an enlightening day.  Something to think about.

Limbo, and Other Dances

     Tonight turned out to be much better than I was expecting.  The improv show (which I was in) went off with several hitches that simply catapulted it into betterness.  Gods, I was impressed with how well the troupe pulled together and really had each other's backs.  This group could grow into something great, if it's given the chance.  And aside from a few rough spots, the glow dance afterward was great fun, as well.  Some of my friends from improv were there, including Anastasia, and dancing with them was another highlight of my night.  Of course, Anastasia's legitimate lover was there as well, and as such they would often dance together, and myself, being in the same room, could not help but notice this.  And when they did, I felt... nothing.

     Well, that's not exactly true.  There was an underlying bittersweet note to these moments, but my emotions towards, we shall name him Derek, were practically non-existent.  I know that it would be normal for a person in my situation to feel animosity towards Derek, and yet, I do not.  When I see him and Anastasia together in a coupley way, its like a black hole forms in my emotions, and sucks them all over its event horizon.  I know that I still have the same feelings for Anastasia as before, that hasn't changed.  But this emotional limbo, this is new, and its frightening.  Frightening, because I don't know what it means.  But whatever its meaning, it hasn't changed anything important to me yet, and I don't intend to let it.

Hope

     What is hope?  The thought that things might get better if you just hold out long enough?  The act of blindly clinging to something that is unlikely to be?  Humanity's saving grace?  Or its greatest flaw?  Pep talks throughout the ages have told us not to give up hope, but why not?  Having hope just opens you up to more hurt, a kind of hurt that you're to blame for, because despite all reason, you let it in.  Of course, hope never seems to care for reason anyway.  The very nature of hope is that it represents a slim chance, something that probably will never happen.  Hope, according to all the laws of chaos that govern the universe, will always hurt more than it helps.  So why do we feel this senseless emotion?  Why have all of these millions of years of evolution, or divine intervention, or whatever selected this trait to be carried forward by life?  I can't say.  But the best theory that I've been able to come up with is that its hope that lets us carry on.  All that stands between us and the fetal position is the hope that somehow, farther down the road, things will get better.

     Now, maybe hope is just some life preserver thrown to us by evolution, to keep us afloat just long enough to pass on our genes and continue the careless, unfeeling cycle.  And part of me believes this, and is telling the rest of me to believe it, too.  "Look at the facts," its saying.  "You've been hurt, and if you keep going down this road, it'll only happen again.  Stop now."  And yet the other part of me just ignores it, and keeps going along, and getting beaten down, and getting back up and continuing.  Reason has failed me, here.  So I'm going to stick to the next best thing that I have: that damned stupid, bloody unreasonable, hopeful part of me.

     So, really, what I'm trying to say is, it's not your fault, and I'm sorry.

Excellent Evenings

     Last night was a most excellent evening.  I had a great time partying with my improv troupe and celebrating the Dark Crop.  I also aired out some concerns with, let's call her Anastasia.  Things are flowing much more smoothly between us than I could have hoped, and I'm really pleased about this.  As a side note, code names have appeared in other blogs that parallel this one, and their use seems practical here as well, so I'm going to implement them.

     But back to last night.  I went home with Anastasia after the first party, along with a few of our friends, and we kept the festive spirit going there.  This party also happened to be a sleepover, so we stayed together until late this morning. I think that we really connected, and I hope that she thinks so, too.

     Tonight, I will be co-hosting Beatles Night with my friend Willow, and I'm pretty psyched.  The performers are great, the Beatles are great, and we're even getting an appearance by Queen Elizabeth II herself!  So long as I can pull my weight in keeping the show rolling, this should prove to be another excellent evening.