"somewhere other than inside the out there." -- part sixteen.
memory is a tricky substance to firmly hold in your hands. it's not drippy or inconsistent, but more so, it's slippery and sliding. you either have it or you don't, like a greased pig phenomenon. so, i've been trying to recollect as much as i can and leave the blank spots as blank as they actually are. this all happened a relatively long time ago, and we, as we were, documented a lot of it through our writing and photographs. but, there are blanks spots that ridiculously shine through the dense memories.
i don't remember what actually happened after my seething blowup outside of the video store. i know he got quiet and pensive really quickly, i know he made his decision within hours.
i remember, on our way somewhere, i think he was riding with me to campus (where he would wait for me to get out of class and then we'd have lunch together), we got into another terrific fight. in that month, a lot of our fights were because i was scared of his inability to love me. a lot of them were him being an asshole and me being a bitch. some of them were because we couldn't find definitions of anything we were doing.
we were friends. we were more than friends. we were best friends. we were lovers. we were support. we were drinking buddies. we were drugged up. we were ambitious and motivated.
so, that day, i went to lunch with my girlfriend, and she whined a bit. and i nodded a bit. mainly, i ate my lunch which had no taste beyond salt.
when i was little, i would get really frustrated with the way things had to be, my feelings got hurt very easily, and i was an honest little girl. when i got upset, i would lay face down on my pink comforter, buried in my stuffed animals, and i would sob. i would cry and cry until i fell asleep. when i woke up, the burden would be gone or at least seem considerably smaller. almost everything that hurt me could be solved this way, alone and sleeping. i was uncomfortable if my mom tried to calm me down or hold me. i didn't want to talk about it right away. i just wanted to cry and fall asleep. that day was a lot like when i was little. i just wanted to cry and sleep, alone with everything that went wrong.
i told her about what happened because if i couldn't cry, someone was going to hear about this shit. she did all the appropriate things, railing about how i didn't need him and ranting on what a slut this little freshman girl was. yeah, she was a freshman. a fucking freshman trying really hard to steal my boy. my girlfriend got me a bit riled up about it all. that was exactly what i didn't want.
so, i left, and i skipped class. and i went home. and i cried, and i slept, completely alone with all the things i did wrong.
that night, he called, and we talked about it.
but of course, the ex factor.
see, the side drama is that she had moved back from connecticut, having been so miserable in that mass of small towns, with no where to live. so, guess who stepped up to the goddamn plate. yeah, she was staying in the apartment for a month or something like that. this was going on while he and i were on the break and then after we "got back together" or whatever the hell you want to call it. sleeping in his bed, and pushing herself back into his life.
it was nothing like good.
there were nights when he and i would just talk on the phone, still keeping our distance, and he would complain and bitch. i would try to be understanding.
wow, how fucking patient or idiotic, i was. i'm still not sure which. see, you have to understand exactly how much i loved this boy and how much i trusted him. his ex stayed, sleeping in the same bed with him, for a month. i had my reservations and made them known. it was no secret that i loathed this girl and didn't trust her as far as her guts could readily stretch across the western hemisphere. i told her so. she told me later on in life that she was scared of me. rightfully so, i almost punched her in the face at one point, but that's a different story all together.
so i had that going for me through march.
but when we finally moved forward, and the ex finally found her feet in a different mud puddle. things would have been perfect if i hadn't found that letter, if i hadn't needed to know, if i didn't love him so much that i wouldn't take "i don't know" as an answer.
so, made that leap, turning in mid-air to ask him to join me. fortunately, he came to his senses.
"i want you here. i want you to move in. i want to be with you. you are my girlfriend. i do love you. linds?"
"good."
"we promised to take care of each other. i'm going to take care of you."
"and i'll to take care of you."
and so it was. she left or was asked to leave, depending on who you talk to. everyone knew that while she was there, i would not be there. i would not set foot near allston if i knew she was even breathing that stale apartment air.
and junior year closed its doors.
my parents brought their truck up to boston along with my cat, and we lugged all of my belongings from the third floor squat of a room down the stairs. my mom cleaned the kitchen. i cleaned what was formerly philosopher's room. and the boxes stacked against the wall.
it was a great day. it was beautiful outside, warm and sunny. i had started a new job a few weeks before at a great used cd store. boy was working so close to the apartment that it didn't even seem like work. we began to make a home.
i cooked dinner. boy brought home a different movie every night. he was writing, and i wasn't worried about school. summer was always when things got warmer.
he still had his own room, and i had mine. we always slept in the same bed, but we had our own space to work and write. most of our friends stayed for the summer, all wide and warm.
so, i began to talk to people at work, and it turned out that they were pretty fucking cool. at the time, new employees started with a few days at the warehouse, just sorting and labelling cds. i ate my lunch outside, by myself. one of my first days, one of the guys i worked with came up to me and introduced himself, and we talked through lunch. we worked together a few more times, and he was really nice to me at a time when i was feeling pretty left out. employees at record stores can be a bit elitist and snobby until they deem you cool enough or knowledgeable about some band they've never heard of, and so, it was a welcome interaction.
one night, he called and asked if i wanted to hang out. all oblivious and unconcerned, i was really excited about a new friend when a lot of my friends had left for summer. he followed that with, "are you serious with your boyfriend?"
"um, well, i just moved in with him, if that's what you mean."
"so, you're serious?"
i laughed, "yeah, you could say that."
at this point, boy got home from work, all happy and dappy and ready for some pizza and movie time. he came into my room and asked who i was on the phone with. i told him, and he went to get pizza. "what's the deal?" i said into the phone.
"you should give me a chance."
"a chance to do what?" the conversation was confusing.
"just give me one chance, and i'll sweep you off your feet."
"oooooooooh, no. that wouldn't really happen. i'm really happy with my boyfriend. i'm sorry."
"just one..."
"um, no."
"lindsay, just consider."
"no, i won't."
the conversation was over before it began. i hung up the phone and started laughing, flattered really. i was laughing at myself for being a moron about it since i didn't even see that coming. i went over the few times we had talked in my head and realized that he had really been asking me out all that time.
i went into boy's room where he was putzing around, and i told him about what happened, still kind of chuckling about it.
"what the fuck?"
"no, it was funny."
let's say that he didn't really see it that way.
"you told this guy you had a boyfriend?"
"yeah, and he asked if we were serious. i told him that we were. what's the big deal?"
"motherfucker. i can't this."
"what? what's wrong?" what did i do wrong?
"you told him, and he still asked you out?"
"yeah, so?"
"more than once?"
"yeah, apparently..." but i got cut off by boy screaming in my face. "what the fuck is your problem, i told him that.."
there was no calming him down at this point, he pushed me out of his room. i just told him to cool off and went to my room. i locked the door, kind of pissed for being attacked.
i turned up my music, and i sat on my bed to write a bit. i didn't really understand. i mean, it's not like i said yes and went out with this guy to see if i could get a better deal. i was right there. christ, i just moved into the apartment.
a little while later, there was a knocking at the door. i didn't answer. i just continued writing, getting more pissed off by the second for his behavior.
"linds, let me the fuck in."
"no. fuck you."
and he knocked and knocked, "goddamnit, lindsay!"
"fuck that. talk to me when you've calmed down."
it was quiet.
and then all of a sudden there was a huge crash and splinters of wood flying toward me and boy was in my room. my little five foot three hulk broke down the door.
he smiled, "can we talk now?"
we both started laughing hysterically.
we had to tell the realty company that the doorknob got stuck, and it was the only way to get me out of the room. they fixed it for free, and boy never lived that down. and he hated that guy the rest of the time we lived in boston.
that was the beginning of our summer, crash boom bang and all that.
then my cat ran away. i cried and cried. i loved that cat, but more than that, i loved how my mom loved that cat. but that cat hated boston and that apartment.
things were good and warm.
evenings came and went. boy and i would walk up to summit avenue and sit near the sundial watching the rest of boston flicker and flutter alive. hearts fell into places that they belong, and time passed through us, the way it ought to. we were oblivious to ever growing older while were were in a june like that.
"can i?"
"but we're down to one, why soil that?"
"please?"
"you're like a little kid."
"please?"
"fine. but i get to name it."
and i walked (ran) to the pet store on harvard ave with the creepy bald guy who likes to talk about ferret food. i saw this calico runt clinging to the top of the cage from just its claws, and i said, "i want that one."
he put her in a little box, and he handed her over to me.
i took her to the video store, where boy was halfway through his shift.
"well, let's see it."
and i opened up the box to those big eyes and that puff of fur, and his face got all soft and sweet. he mimicked me, and said, "smoosh!" as he took her into his hands.
"i dub thee, dr. gonzo."
"perfect."
"go get her settled."
and i did ... well, as settled as that kitten could ever be.
it all finally seemed real again. waking up in the morning and falling asleep at night next to the only thing that ever meant anything to me, all right there, just for me, a brilliant boy, a good man. i could have never had any regrets, "until the end of the world."
