Posts
I don't really know if any of that is true, but I'll tell you, I've had one such event recently.
Think about some stuff you regret. More than likely, within those first three things that popped into your head, there's something from way back in your past that you wished you had done differently. Maybe you accidentally scraped the principal's car with a rock and got detention, and it turned you into a bad kid, and you grew up to be an abusive husband. Maybe while at a friend's house you decided to pocket a cd or movie, and you could never give it back because it broke, and your best friend held it against you until graduation, and you never spoke again.
Let me tell you a story about my life. It will be a long one, but much less boring than anything else I've written so far. When I started school in second grade, I did the same things I had learned to do the year before. I got off the bus, walked inside, followed the hall to my classroom and took off my backpack. Something was different about it. Maybe it's because I was a little taller than before, or because I had my first pair of laced shoes. Maybe it's the fact that a girl tackled me into the coat closet and kissed me all over my face.
This bold little pistol's name was Alison. She was the first girl I ever had a crush on.
I wanted her to like me, too. And she did. I must have known that, too, because I always tried to act very cool around her, so she wouldn't be disappointed with her choice and tackle somebody else, like Cody Thayer. We would talk about things only 8 year old kids would care about. Like what, I don't know, I'm not 8 anymore and no longer care.
One day, near the end of the year, Alison tried to tell me that she really liked me and wanted me to be her boyfriend. I said, "Yeah, I get that all the time." And she walked away from me.
She didn't find me on the playground anymore, she didn't want to help color my very hungry caterpillars or share scissors and Elmer's glue with me. It should have been no secret that I lied to her, I never even spoke to another girl at that age. I was too shy to initiate a conversation about Tonka trucks and Ninja Turtles, and too embarrassed to explain to her that I was a fibber. This has always been considered the biggest mistake of my life.
I overheard Alison telling some others that she was moving away and wouldn't be going to school here anymore. I grabbed the waste of my Mortal Kombat shirt and pulled it down, trying to do anything to keep myself from getting out of the chair and kissing her back. It was the only thing I'd wanted to do after the closet incident. I didn't know why. It made me like her, I guess, so maybe if I did it to her she would like me again. I didn't want her to go. I just wanted her to be around until we were forced to make construction paper penguins together and maybe then I could mildly dissuade her from hating on a player. Of video games.
After the last days of her being at school, there was nothing I could do to keep my mind off of her. It was never anything remarkable in my head, just her, and how she made me feel when she was around. I walked down the hill in front of my house and through the field into town, to Horizon Video, where I planned on looking at Sega Genesis games until I forgot why I wasn't home. While I picked up Wonder Boy in Monster World and Road Rash 2, I looked up to see a man at the counter with his family. He said he wanted to return some movies and pay off his late fees because he was moving away. That's just like him, I thought, to take his young daughter away from all the people here that might have cared about her. I wondered if Alison's dad remembered to pay off his late fees before skipping town. I hated this man in front of me for not putting his family first, just as I hated Alison's father for taking her away from me.
The girl stepped out from the side of her daddy and my heart stopped for a second. I had been here to come to grips with the fact that I just saw Alison Daniels for the last time, and I wouldn't ever be able to make things right. She was just standing there, staring at something. At nothing. Certainly not at me. And I realized that I had the upper hand. She didn't know I was there yet, she never looked. I backed up behind the game pillar and considered the option of trying to kiss her before she left, or telling her how sorry I was that I didn't tell her that I liked her too. I knew that no matter what I did, nothing would keep her here with me. I wanted to tell her that I would miss her, and that I hoped she would have fun in wherever. China, for all I knew. And if we ever got an extra long recess, and I ever did finish digging that hole to Hong Kong, maybe I would look her up.
Whatever I decided that day didn't matter. When I came around the corner he door opened and he began to walk out, his daughter at his heels. Somehow she turned and she looked at me. She smiled at me, like she used to, and she waved. She put her hand and head down and walked out. I stood there, not saying anything, not smiling or waving. I may have put up a vertical hand, but didn't do anything with it. Almost as a desperate attempt to communicate with her to stop. She never saw it.
I knew in my heart that it was the last time I would ever see Alison Daniels.
As the creep that I am, I continued thinking about her for weeks. And even a few months.
And a couple of years. Which turned into twelve. Because I still think about her now, and up until several months ago, she was the one thing I regret most. Every few months she pops into my head and I think, "You know, Alison, if you and I had known each other this entire time maybe we would have been together." I dated a girl my senior year named Samantha on the sole basis that I guessed that if Alison were 18 or 19, she would look a lot like Sam. Something about this girl I never wanted to let go of.
Where did she move to? Did she still live there? Was her name Alison, or Allison, or Daniel or Daniels? Was she alive? Did she live in Paraguay? Uruguay? Zimbabwe? Whenever I would think about her it would drive my curiosity, and I'd search on MySpace or Facebook for anyone named Al(l)ison Daniel(s), if the name I remember was even an accurate one. Her name could have been Faith Evans and I never would have known, since my mind and memories are unreliable. Maybe she never even existed, maybe she was my imaginary friend. And even if she did, what would she think if I found her? "o hay Alison, u kissd me when we were yung and i think bout u a lot". Could she remember me? Would she have been thinking about me, too? It was all impossible. I knew I was acting crazy, and the few people I mentioned my crusade to agreed with that. I was crazy.
The impossibles:
I had 50 states and 4 different name combinations that may not even be correct to search through.
There was no way this girl remembered me.
There's no way this girl would want anything to do with me when she heard my story.
She was probably a figment of my imagination, fueled by Playskool kitchenettes.
Imagine my surprise when I found her on MySpace. Or someone who could have been her, anyway. She matched my age and kind of looked like Samantha. I knew it wasn't her, but I had to try anyway.
<----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: ..Chris Grose (lost his space, get him back!)..
Date: 25 Aug 2008, 04:56 AM
This might seem like a ridiculous question to you, but did you ever live in Michigan? More specifically, East Jordan?
---------------------------------------------------->
Since I didn't get a response, I figured it wasn't her. Or if it was, she thought I was a bot. Or a creeper. I'd never find the real Al(l)ison.
<----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Alison
Date: Aug 29, 2008 5:52 PM
Yeah, actually, I did. Early elementary school. Don't tell me you know me from there? That was a long time ago! Your name does seem familiar to me though...
----------------------------------------------------->
...!! This must have been how Princess Leia felt when Luke took off the helmet. "My name is Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you!"
"Uh, no offense, Skylocker, but I sent that message to Obi-Wan Kenobi as a joke. No one was really supposed to reply back, let alone come looking for me."
What fucking luck is that? I actually found the girl who, despite being a total stranger, always meant so much to me. But that was just about the extent of my luck, I was sure. Once she finds out that I've been digging around for any trace of her for a couple of years, she would be sure to follow Bruce Dickinson's advice and run to the hills.
I thought about lying to her, telling her it was an accident. But lying to her was kind of what got me into this whole thing in the first place twelve years ago. I told her the truth in a few concise sentences. Here's what I got back.
<----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Alison
Date: Aug 31, 2008 2:38 AM
Wow, that was you? You are really the only person I remember from when I lived there. I've thought about you from time to time, I actually have some rather distinct memories of the two of us...but whether they're accurate, I can't be sure. I moved around a lot back then and my memory gets hazy. It always bothered me that I couldn't recall your name. It's funny because your last name in particular has always floated around in my head as the name of someone I used to know, but I never connected the dots. You were the first boy I ever had a crush on, too. It doesn't seem stupid at all that it meant something to you, I feel the same. How did you even happen to find me? I'm really glad that you did, it's nice to know that you've thought about me too.
----------------------------------------------------->
The funny thing is, she knows about this blog. And I told her tonight that I would keep writing in it, and I was going to update it. She had no idea it would be about her, and neither did I. I wanted to write something that would entice her to keep coming back and reading my stuff, but the only thing that's happened in weeks to interest me is finding her.
Maybe next week I'll find a dead bird with a crown or something, and I'll blog about who crowned crow bling king. Until then, just remember that regrets aren't a waste of your time. They teach you from experience to not fuck up again, and even keep you going sometimes. So the next time some artsy bitch decides to act unique, like the 50,000 girls that dress and act identically, and say "I don't have regrets. I don't regret anything," just beat her with her Polaroid and make sure she admits to regretting opening her whore mouth.
No comments:
Post a Comment