Sticks and Bones

The first part of a chronicle of a crush-turned-obsession. I'm sorry, Julie.


To experience this in natural reading order go to A Bright, Ironic Hell: The Straight Read .


Also, try Satellite Dance and Crystal Delusions--Parts 2 and 3, respectively--complete.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

The Only Four-Letter Word That Is Truly a Curse (2/13/09 Friday)

It's a struggle, and I'm letting go. I'm not letting go of Julie, but of the denial that I'm in love with her. I must be. Everything has been working ironically because everything I've convinced myself of is a lie. I don't know what love is, but the good feelings feel bad, and the bad feelings feel good, and soon I won't know which is which. Every thought seems a contradiction of itself; every feeling hurts. Can I be in love with Julie? God--bitter, spiteful god that you are--help me. How can this be true? How could it be anything else? What else could be so impervious to logic? If I am in love with Julie I am also in serious trouble, for it will never be requited. And if it was hard to be around her before, it will be impossible from now on. I say that love is impervious to logic, but when I say I'm in love with Julie, nearly everything I've thought or felt or denied thinking or feeling about Julie makes sense. But--oh, I don't want this! Damn it all!

I can't judge my day today at work as good, bad, neutral or anywhere in between. The more I tried to ignore Julie, the more I just wanted to stare at her, which I did at least twice to her face. Before I'd yet seen her today I knew she was to relieve me from the window. I didn't want to be there when she did, so I went to the 24/7 room to scour the bins for books, though I'd done it just the minute before. As I emerged I knew peripherally where she was, standing between her desk and the window station, facing me. From eight feet away I finally fully raised my head and gazed levelly at her, daring her to speak to me. I would not have been the first to speak. That was not a determination; I simply was content to stare at her face, and it was up to her to remove it. "Dion," she said, cautiously testing a smile, "I'm ready to take over for you at the window." "Okay," I said. It wasn't hard to suppress a smile--I didn't feel it--but the corners of my mouth twitched almost imperceptibly upward. "Thank you." "You're welcome," she said as we both turned from each other.

At three o'clock I relieved her from the desk. When I approached she was turned from me and the desk, talking to Jen. A patron approached the desk, and Julie partially turned toward them, but I stepped up and reached for their checkouts. Julie's turn to see whose arm had intervened and my step closer to intercept the patron brought us face to face, barely a foot apart. I stared down into her right eye (it was very dark) and said in a strong, clear voice, "I'm up." "You are?" she said. I didn't answer or move. She slid off the chair and left. It was then I knew I just wanted to stare at her. And it's about all I can do and not betray my affection. Love. God, not love!

2 comments:

Thesauros said...

I'm curious about the term "Free Thinker and I was wondering if you would tell me a bit about why the term “Free Thinker” best describes you. Also, how would you describe those who you believe are not “free thinkers.”
Thanks

Dion Burn said...

"Free thinker" partially describes me; that is, it's not everything I am, and I'm not wholly it. A free thinker, to me, is, to start with, a skeptic, who takes little, if anything, at face value and questions all that we're asked to blindly accept (e.g., media influences) or take for granted. That is simply my definition. Read Henry David Thoreau and you will understand free-thinking much better than I could describe it. Those who prefer (and, yes, I do consider it a preference) to believe and do and buy as their told are simply sheep.