A Year Ago Yesterday

A year ago yesterday now was a day that will stay with me for no reason other than the fact that I was so stupid. I was miserable then; completely stuck on some little boy. Now I'm miserable because I have no job. If I looked back I'd probably see that I'm miserable every fall and the only really good things about this season are the amazing weather and cool new clothing styles.

I worked at Red Hot and Blue a year ago and I had blonde hair. I'd gotten it cut a year ago to make myself feel pretty because my skin kept breaking out and the people at work told me I looked like a rockstar. I wore a shirt that belonged to my sister. It had a bunch of shoes hanging from a power line and then at the end of the power line there was a person hanging upside down. I loved that shirt. Everybody asked me that day why I was so happy, and I'd tell them, and they'd say, "Oh, Girl... you need to stay away from that," all the while they've got their own man troubles; being with guys who had girlfriends, got around, were in general just not the greatest, but theirs were at least the right age. I tried to argue that was all that was wrong with him; he wasn't the right age, and be reminded no, that wasn't all that was wrong, "He has a girlfriend. Doesn't he sell drugs? I think he's manipulating you."

And he was manipulating me, but I don't think anyone knows to what extent, and I'm embarrassed to say now. A year ago yesterday, I rolled up my rugs when I got off work, and I was happy and excited and I met him at the CVS, and parked my car and climbed into his and made him take me to the mall to get something to eat and he was high so I was mad at him, and for the first time I wasn't happy to see him; didn't want to be around him. He wasn't like I remembered and maybe after two or three months of not seeing someone you can't hold onto your mind's conceptions of them and the feelings they arouse in you. Maybe he was changing, or maybe I could see through his charm and attractiveness.  I just wanted something from him. Power, love, money, anything. anything he could give me because I had been expecting him and wanting him for so long that to have anything less than him would have been an insurmountable disappointment.

I was a foolish girl.

He had never parked in a garage you pay for before. He waved the ticket around like he was about to drop it, "What do I do with this?" "That's for when we leave." I scoffed at him. Then inside the mall, I ran to the escalator and down it and he told me to slow down, "I'm too high for this." I just wanted to fuck with him, but then we walked around the perimeter of the mall looking for a place to eat and then I bought him dinner. The waiter was someone who had been in my fiction writing class a little more than a year before, and he remembered me and my stories and told me what a good writer I was. I tried to put myself in the position of the little boy sitting across from me in the booth, but selfishly only thought of what he would think about the fact that someone I hadn't seen in a year approached me and told me how wonderful I was. Would this make me more attractive? One of my male friends had taught me a little about gaming over the summer, but I didn't like to believe it's all a stupid game and you can't just find a person attractive and do whateverthefuck you like with them.

I was sad and annoyed by the end of the meal, and then we went back to my house and I just felt this huge surge of disappointment; like I had gotten nothing for this evening... and he was right here! What I'd been thinking that I wanted all along was right here and I didn't want him anymore, but I still wanted him in case I'd regret not doing it later. So, I let him in the back door, pretended to my family that I was just going to sleep so they wouldn't see him, and then before he left--- I didn't let him leave. I didn't know then, but I suspect now that there are certain things that a girl can do that will make it pretty much definite that she'll get some, but he didn't seem to happy about it. His mouth didn't grab at mine in that hungry way it used to; it was just lips and skin moving against lips and skin, and the sex lasted about 2 seconds. Then he was done with a self satisfied smirk on his face and my mom was banging on my door and turning a key in the lock and I was frantically trying to get my clothes back on.

He started to go out the door and I threw on pants, carrying my shirt. He wasn't going to leave without saying bye to me, and I ran out the door. The lid of the trashcan slammed on the side of the house and I ignored the disapproving gaze of my grandfather.

He was at his car, "You're not wearing a shirt." I rolled my eyes at him and put it on, and said goodbye, then he left and I started to cry, and I knew then that I was stupid and I shouldn't care so much, and I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't help it because I was stupid, and cared too much.

Then my mom came in my room, drunk, and she wouldn't leave so I couldn't cry and be alone and feel sorry for myself.

In the end that's all it comes down to; I like excuses to feel sorry for myself and someday I'll miss right now just as much or more as I miss a year ago yesterday, and even though I don't believe that right now, I know its true because it's happened before and will happen again.

Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane
Will we ever meet again?
feel no sorrow, feel no shame
come tomorrow, feel no pain.