April 17, 2003

Art Guy Jeff

Last night my dreams were blurry and disjoined. Hazy images my mind couldn�t quite call up this morning.

But I bet I know what they were about..

Because I woke up thinking about an attractive boy in the Army Reserve who used to sit to my right in Art and Culture class.

And I remember thinking he was beautiful.

And I remember going to his apartment and falling madly in love with it. The chic mannequin sitting in a chair at the top of the stairs. The stars and sky and New York Skyline painted onto the walls of their art room. The classy old prints in his bedroom. The Brian Froud faeries stenciled around the mirror in his bathroom..

I remember the bathroom the best. I remember sitting on the floor early in the morning holding myself because I was crying so hard I was shaking. I remember finally get a grip on myself and looking up at the faeries right before I left and thinking, �Those are really pretty. That�s a great idea.�

I remember walking out of that bathroom and that apartment feeling dead inside.

I remember calling him a while later asking him about an earring I lost that night. I don�t remember getting it back although I know I did. I do remember dropping the class we had together the very next day.

I remember going to the Fineline that night and drinking until I could barely walk straight. And making out with my ex-boyfriend. And throwing up in the bathroom. And calling PJ on a payphone at two in the morning and begging him to come pick me up even though all my close friends were there. And stumbling out into the parking lot and crying. And how one of the bouncers saw me and how a group of my friends came outside and tried to talk to me and comfort me. And how worried they were because I never cry. And how they sent PJ away when he did show up telling him that I was their friend and they would take care of me.

I remember the first (and only) time I ever told someone the complete story. It was two years later (almost to the day). I remember the way he looked at me and how pissed off he got and how he punched a wall.

Last night, before I went to bed I spent five hours talking to Tom. Somewhere in that conversation he told me about some painful memories that always come up around Easter. And I remember a part of me that froze and something clicked seconds before I pushed it all out of my mind.

At least until I fell asleep.

6:00 p.m.

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