Archive for the ‘JT’ Category
Viva
So: Las Vegas.
First thing: hot as all hell, and I mean so, so hot. Not humid, which was a huge mercy, but frying-in-the-blazing-sun hot. Triple-digit hot. So hot that it hurt to be outside and was uncomfortable even at night. I didn’t envy at all the men standing on the sidewalk handing out short stacks of hooker cards. Sorry—escort cards.
Woo!
So—I was wrong. I shouldn’t have worried about JT because it turns out he has his own back, and he’s been preparing to have it even before he broke up with Jack Dawson. He’s—and this dropped my jaw—created a profile on an online dating site (a well known one, but one whose name I won’t disclose because who knows what searches it may cause me to turn up in), and he’s been using it since a week before the breakup.
Sinking Ships
Last weekend JT texted to tell me he had broken up with Jack Dawson, his boyfriend of just over a year. I was walking home with Leone at the time, so I didn’t look at the message until about an hour later, but when I saw what he had written I immediately called him, and I stayed on the phone with him for an hour. The breakup surprised me a little bit, not because it hadn’t been a long time coming, and certainly not because I thought he should’ve stayed with Jack. It surprised me because JT hadn’t mentioned wanting to do it, although that itself shouldn’t have been unexpected, because the fact that he couldn’t tell me is a huge part of the reason he ended it.
Too Bad Break Doesn’t Come With a Rollover Plan
There’s nothing to do. I dont want to do anything. It hit me just today, all of a sudden, and maybe it’s because I’ve been awake since 8 in the morning, and maybe it’s because I’ve finally had enough of break.
Watching it Crumble
I’m falling out of touch with JT. There are three parts of this, as far as my thoughts are concerned:
(By falling out of touch I mean that while before it wouldn’t have been strange to have a text-versation (lasting all day sometimes) with him every day, we are now going through a dry spell. The last time I heard from him was Wednesday (it’s Monday now), and that because I texted him first. This may not seem like a big deal, but usually it’s almost always he who initiates. And this after more than a week of silence.)
Drama on the High Seas
I suppose it’s somewhat of a good thing, when I come back from yachting/dancing my butt off/sweating my face off at 2 AM and have to get up at 9 AM tomorrow morning to drive up to who-the-f*-knows-where-in-nor-cal (and I mean nor-cal. None of this Bay-Area-nor-cal business. I mean up there where the trees grow and the squirrels dance around and you’re practically in Oregon. Real life northern-California. And dont ask me what the heck I’ll be doing up there. I couldn’t tell you), and I’m dead tired and every muscle in my legs ache a slow deep burn and I just know they’re telling me that they’ll be on fire tomorrow—and I know I should go to sleep but all I want to do is blog. I’ve come a long way from being that girl who would only write about boys (one in particular) and most of my posts would be privated (Still haven’t had a private post since mid March—and I know it probably doesn’t seem like a big accomplishment, but for me it is because it means I’m less afraid to put myself out there). This place has become my home.
But enough of that sappiness.
I met JT’s other guy today. Let me tell you, JT’s fallen hard. And I dont know if it’s teenage “ohmigodhe’ssocuteijustwanttoholdhimforever” smitten or real life smitten, but either way it’s a damn adorable and a little sickening. But new couples always are. And I sat there in the car on the way to Oakland where the yacht was waiting and thought about how JT kept crowing “he’s so adorable!” all morning, and I wanted it. I wanted that. I wanted a guy I could squeal about, who would turn me into a gushing puddle of cloyingly the sweet sappy girl I never want to be. I want someone to penetrate what I know are walls I’ve put up around my heart (somehow. I dont even know when/why/how I did it, but I’ve come to know that they’re there, those damn walls. Well, maybe not walls so much as “Proceed with Caution” signs). And I know that unless summer changes things completely (and they’d have to change pretty completely) it’s not gonna be The Chemist I fall for, which makes me a little sad, but I knew that all along.
Even When I Know You’re Wrong
JT just called me to tell me the most horrible love story, one in which he comes out as the most insensitive, unfaithful, mean fucktard of a boyfriend ever. The kind of person that if he were a character in a movie most people would end up hating him and wishing all sorts of bad things for him.
But I dont. I dont hate him, I dont blame him, and I wish him only the best. Underneath it all I know what he’s doing is wrong (and I know he knows it too) but I love him too much to ever hold his actions against him. I’ve said before that when it comes to JT I have a blind spot the size of Texas, but that’s not correct, either. I’m not too stupid to see his faults (and there are lots of them). It’s no longer that I dont know they’re there. I just dont care that they are. I dont even have any desire to go and try to make him a better person. It wouldn’t go over well with him anyway. I know it probably makes me a bad person too, but I’ve always known that.
It makes me happy to no end that he felt comfortable calling me and sharing his jackassery with me, knowing that most of the population would hate him for his actions. It’s a form of trust. And for that, I love him.
Who I dont love, incidentally, is the other guy. The guy who is the other half of this terrible love story (that I dont want to get into because there’s no real point or appeal to doing so). I’m not the hugest fan of The Barista, but what this other guy did…is doing…it’s just not cool. What an ass. I have no bias towards him, no love for him that will drown out the piece of me that knows my rights and wrongs enough to know that what he’s doing isn’t right. So if I’m disinclined to like him even before I met him, there’s a reason for that. Of course, it’s one of those things where it’s easy enough to frown upon him from afar, but at the same time I know that in his or JT’s shoes I’d probably be doing the same thing.
But that’s not enough to stop me from judging.
My Naivete Will be the Death of Me
I’m such a dumbass. How did I not see it? Two horny, teenage guys. Which equates to a zero chance of pregnancy. Two guys. Guys. Am I that sheltered and self-deceiving? Jeeze. If I had a tail it would be dangling between my legs like the cock I also do not have.
Overshadowed
I’m back in the US, back in California…but does my place still stand? And if it does, how long will it stand? How does it stand–firm, tall, and strong? Or weak and vulnerable to every gust of wind?
I’ve come to realise that when you are in danger of being replaced, that when someone (multiple someones) are threatening your place in a third someone’s life…one of the worst things you can do is sulk and threaten and wait for him to come back to you and reassure you that you are irreplaceable. You have to keep strong and prove to him that you deserve; that position, and that you deserve the title of best friend. You have to laugh it off and shrug as if you believed you could never be pushed aside for someone else. As if you didn’t feel threatened. As if you trusted in your relationship. You have to show him that you are better than the usurpers and you have to pretend not to be the jealous, petty bitch you really are and that you dont mind that there are other people in his life.
But I do mind. I do feel threatened. And in the end, I really am a jealous, petty bitch. I’m frightened. I’m frightened because it’s not my birthday party he’s going to and that it’s not me he’ll be working with and seeing every day and that it’s not my face beaming at him when he flips his cell-phone open. How can I assert my position miles away in Berkeley? How can I have a chance when it’s not me he’ll be seeing every day? I’m frightened, and I’m unsure, and it’s hard to laugh and pretend when I really do doubt.
He loves me most of all, I have to believe. I’m the one that makes him laugh. I’m the one that can read his mind, finish his sentences. Many people can understand his sense of humor, but I’m the only one that can make the jokes with him. …Right? Right? But if he’s changed, and decides that something else is funnier, then where do I stand? If Roommate can be pushed away, she that was so close to him…who am I to say that I can hold my place? But I’m different, right? I’m better…right? Right?
No. No. It will do no good worrying. And it would do ever worse pining and just thinking of it. I have to keep laughing and pretending. And to pretend I have to believe. And in the end, I’ll look back on this post and laugh at myself for ever consider the possibility. I know that I’m better than those three girls put together. They’re a harem. I’m the true gold, the true best friend. I can stand. I can. I can.
