Matt and random
I was talking to him friday night (a 4 hour long conversation, that's a record for us on the phone) just about random things, and while I was in my room, I was staring at my bedpost, where I had the sketch of a tattoo that I've always wanted to get pinned up. I remembered that he was against tattoos, so I asked him again what his stance was, to get a better idea of why. He regards it as a mar, something that would not only not add to the aesthetic pleasantness of a person, but detract from it a bit. I mentioned that there was one that I had wanted to get for a while, and how against ME getting one would he be. The answer was very, but if I really wanted one, then I shouldn't let him stop me. I was a little surprised by his vehemence on the subject. After a bit I axplained that it was a doodle that I'd done in 7th or 8th grade of a bird that looks almost like a pheonix, and I'd wanted it as a tattoo since then. It was kind of symbolic, because through the whole of life up till a very short time ago, I felt so trapped, and so it was a little bit of freedom for me to hold onto. Having it as a tattoo would make it permanent and keep it close to me. However, I'm free now. I don't need it anymore, so I kind of want it out of habit. And he wouldn't approve of it, so would that be a point of contention between us? Would me getting it be a bit of defiance against him? Should I not get it for him, or get it for me? Or do I actually not really want it anymore, I just think I do? I don't know. I told him all of that and was extrememly surprised by his reaction. He said that he felt really bad now, for saying what he did, because he hadn't realized how much it meant to me, that he almost felt like crying. I don't quite know how to react to that. He has no reason to feel bad about that, he has every right to his opinion, and he hadn't known the details of it before he spoke. I'm very touched by his reaction, that he would be that (this word is too strong but whatever, for lack of better) repentant about it. I'm a bit floored over that. SO I'll just remain speechless untill I can decide how to react, or decide to remain a bit confused.
I miss him. I remember on August twentieth, I had to say goodbye to him. I think walking out that doos was the hardest thing I've had to do to date. It took me half and hour to leave. When I was picking up a couple of things around his place that I had to take with me (I left quite a few things as well), as I walked over, he followed, kept his hands on my waist. I've always wanted to be held like that. That gentle, firm touch on the curve of the hip. He didn't want to let go of me even for the minute it would take me to walk over, pick something up, and walk back. Truth-I didn't want him to let go either.
Later, when I was on my way to an old bosses house, I took kind of a strange route to get there, had to walk quite a bit. As I was turning a corner, I must have looked really upset, because two guys pulled over a bit, and yelled "Hey, want us to beat him up? What's he do to you?" That almost made me laugh, but I just shook my head and kept walking. About 5 minutes later, I ran into them again. They repeated their offer, and I explained that no, I loved him, but I had to leave, I was moving. "Oh. (pause) You don't love him enough to take him with you?" It always surprises me how the most unlikely people say some of the most intelligent, probing, make-you-think questions. I told them I couldn't, he had a job and was going to start school soon. And walked on, thinking on, thinking about that. It was such a random little encounter, in the middle of the ghetto (for those who know Oakland, think Shattuck and 40th, not too far away from telegraph and 51st, MLK, right around there). Not somewhere you'd expect to run into guys who can cheer you up. It was strange, I felt a lot better after talking to them.
Switching subjects rathe abruptly, I went to this kick ass used bookstore yesterday. It was great. I found an entire shelf of Anais Nin's diaries, and outside they have racks of books for two dollars, or 50 cents. It's awesome. Also found Griffin and Sabine, the second two of the trilogy for 10 dollars each, the first (because it was first edition) was 30. I was so tempted. But I didn't. I was sad, I can't work there. They only hire you if you have previous bookstore experience. I wonder if shelving books for the library for three years counts. Hmmm. Oh well. Dunno if I could handle the hours. After spending about an hour and a half, Tabitha and I went home. Just as we were about to crash, Beth called, asking if we wanted to go to a party. We decided oh, whhat the hell, and she came over to pick us up. She liked our apartment, made fun of me for having dated a tromboner, and played with the slinky.
WHen we got to the party, there were far too many people smoking, so we ended up in the kitchen, talking to this Australian couple, they were very cool. Made me miss Matt even more, though. The guy who had invited Beth is a kick ass guitar player, played Blackbird for us, was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. Beth was signing to me occaisionally during that, I was surprised by how much I could pick up on. She's going to teach me sign, yay. I figure as I get more and more deaf, it's increasingly useful. Taylor (the guitar player) has a roommate, Joe. Very cute guy, very interested in Beth, but she doesn't believe us. He's got the whole actor pretention thing going on, and the late night radio talk show host voice. It was great. He did a beer run, got us Corona and some orange girly beer (a "bitchy drink"). It was great, you couldn't taste the alcohol. I had one, Tabitha manged to have two and a half without us noticing. It was about 3 at this point and the semi long day, combined with the alcohol was making me very tired and antisocial. And miss Matt. It wasn't good. You'd think that being Russian, Polish, Irish and German, that I'd have a high alcohol tolerance. Nope. One 5% alcohol beer, and I was really hot, had a nice little buzz for a while. Funny, thing though, the 16 ounces of Guinness I was forced to consume at one point didn't do that. I had forgotten how much I disliked drinking, though. I'm fine at first, but then I get this really wierd bad feeling in my stomach. Glad I only had one.
Backtracking-later on Tabitha was complaining about the abundance of hot men there. She was right. Do I regret not being single, not having the opportunity to pursue any of these interesting, smart, funny, good looking people? Well, yeah, of course I do. But I would regret not being with Matt far more. By choosing anything, you miss out on something else. So you have to go with what you think will be the better, more enjoyably, more solid and lasting and good option. And for me, that's Matt, no question about it. (Tabitha's begging me to shoot her now, can't take the borderline sappy devotion, I guess. poor thing)
Anyway, going back to where I left off. We left at about three thirty in the morning. I didn't want to drag Beth away, she was having fun, but I was so exhausted. When we got home, I made oatmeal and cried, the first real cry that I've had the whole time I've been here (had Bjork running through my head-"crying cause I need you, crying cause I can't feel you"). Tabitha heard me crying and talked to me. Cheered me up. It was good. WOke up this morning, went to feed to cat next door. It was a beautiful morning, cold and clear, you could see all the way out to the mountains across Lake Washington. Then I went back to sleep. And now, I have to go help Beth with graphing stuff, so I will end this insanely long entry and go now.
